The Cruel Path Home
by RelativeWind
Summary: Cast aside by Snoke, Kylo Ren seeks sanctuary with his mother. It is not the reunion she had hoped for: Kylo is still one with the darkness. The horror of what her son has become clashes with her hope for his redemption. Poe, Rey, and other Resistance leaders have doubts about the monster in their midst. And nothing compares to the torment, indecision, and pain within Kylo himself.
1. Prologue

STAR WARS: The Cruel Path Home

Prologue

Starkiller Base  
A Long, Long Time Ago…

The cold snow was beginning to soak through my cloak, and I felt the vitality draining from my body. I tried again to prop myself up, but only succeeded in dragging my limp body another few centimeters across the frigid ground. Intense pain flowed through me, fueling the inferno within me. The physical suffering was inconsequential, but the lack of mobility was agonizing—and the searing sting of failure roiled my very being.

I had dedicated everything to my pursuit of the Dark Side, yet it had not been enough. I was a formidable warrior, fueled by rage and without remorse or regret. Yet somehow, this girl had proven a worthy opponent. This untrained novice. This small, weak, pitiable creature.

Once again I tried to move, feeling the wound in my side tear open further. Each twist of my abdomen had further widened it throughout my fight, the sinewy flesh unable to maintain its integrity against the strain of my physical exertion. The pain had been stimulating, but the blood loss was fatiguing. I managed to raise my head high enough to see the river of warm blood flowing onto the ground, staining the pristine white snow.

It was another indignity to suffer: succumbing to the blade of the girl was hardly desirable, but at least she was a strong in the force. That made such a demise at least marginally respectable. To die from a wound inflicted by a Wookie—a non-entity—and his primitive weapon was not a suitable end.

It was ironic, too. Chewbacca, the creature that had claimed it owed a life debt to Han Solo, would ultimately bear responsibility for the death of the son Solo had so desperately wanted to save. Solo… the man who had risked every, and given everything, in the hope that he could undo the past.

It was his mistake, of course. His son no longer existed. Ben Solo was weak and inconsequential, a fragile being holding great potential but lacking corresponding ambition. Thus he had been destroyed to give way to someone eager to embrace true power. Someone with a destiny worthy of the Dark Side.

At least that is what I had believed. I could feel my own life fading, my breath quickening as my body struggled for oxygen. As the blood pooled around me destiny seemed very far away.

Beneath me, the ground shook violently. A low rumble filled the air, punctuated by the staccato sound of cracking rock. Perhaps I was wrong; maybe my death would not be attributable to the Wookie after all.

Han Solo had tried valiantly to change what could not be undone. But his interference could not be tolerated. Even as I had faced him on the bridge his emotions had washed over me. The tempest of feelings had challenged the very essence of what I was. Indecision and uncertainty festered within me, the hidden relics of what I had once been emerging to tear at my soul.

And that is why he had to die. Not because Snoke wished it. Not as some kind of revenge for the multiple transgressions of my childhood. He threatened to fundamentally change what I am. I had made my choice, and nothing would change my mind. Certainly not a man who was a smuggler, a thief, and a coward.

I had looked into his eyes and seen his pain, his hope, his love. I had felt everything in his mind, everything in his soul. And I had cut out his heart, driving a crimson blade through his chest.

The wave of emotion was overwhelming, a cacophony of feelings that I could not understand nor control. Relief and regret. Pride and sorrow. Part of me had died with him, a fragment of my soul I had sought to destroy for years. Still, I was not prepared for ferocity with which it tore through every fiber of my being in its final throes.

As his body fell away, I had struggled to regain my composure. My decision had been made, and there had been no turning back. Not for Han Solo, not for anyone. I had devoted myself to the darkness for all of eternity.

Sometimes, however, eternity is quite short. Now, as the cold, wet snow seeped through my clothing, I wondered if what was true. After all I had given, I was now going to die. Crippled. Alone.

The Force had betrayed me.

Or had I failed it?

That emotion… that weakness. It had made me vulnerable. Those moments of indecision had led to a debilitating wound. It was certainly serious; warm blood flowed in a sufficient quantity not only to stain the snow with its dark red color but cause steam to rise from it. The fire inside me was literally pouring out, melting the snow.

Even those who can embrace their pain cannot overcome the physical frailty of the human form. How else could I explain a neophyte besting me in combat, regardless of what connection she had to the Force? Her strength was irrefutable, but without the proper training how could she hope to channel it effectively? I had studied the Force for most of my life; the concept that someone with no previous guidance could defeat me was both unsettling and unlikely.

No matter how rational the excuse, it was ultimately another demonstration of my own inadequacy. There had been only two suitable outcomes from our confrontation: her acquiescence or her destruction.

In truth, I preferred the former. I felt compelled to free her of the chains the light would bind her with, filled with an overwhelming desire to introduce her to the wonders of the Universe. I wanted to show her things that defy comprehension, marvels that Skywalker would never have the courage to show her. He feared what he did not understand, and she would suffer for it if I did not intervene. Perhaps that aspiration itself dulled my attacks, another case of hesitation and indecision leading to weakness. But I knew what she needed, what she _deserved_.

It was also a desire borne of practicality. Han Solo was not incorrect: Snoke would support me only as long as I was of use to him, and would dispatch me without reservation or remorse if I became a threat. Confrontation was therefore inevitable: it was the way of the Dark Side. It was the path I have chosen, the only one that would lead the culmination of Darth Vader's vision.

The Supreme Leader is wise: he would never provide me with the skills or knowledge I would need to resist him. But with another, one whose strength in the Force was boundless and ripe for my guidance, I would have been unstoppable. Together, we could have brought order to the Galaxy as my Grandfather had foreseen.

She would have resisted me, of course, just as I had once resisted Snoke. Ultimate power, though alluring, is unnerving to those that do not fully understand it. The Dark Side does not fit with the constructs of most societies, and to truly explore the gifts it offers one must divest whatever weak philosophies they had been taught. Eventually she would have understood. We all do. The darkness is indeed fear and anger, but it is also purpose. It allows you to focus your hate in the pursuit of goals beyond comprehension.

Goals I would no longer achieve. For all my efforts the crowning achievement of my journey was the immolation of my own father. And now even that bred confusion bordering on regret. My emotional control still failed to push aside the connection I had with the man. Who was I—feeble, uncertain, conflicted-to instruct her in the ways of darkness?

A fresh wave of hate grew within me, directed inward this time. I had not given in, and yet I had been too weak. Ben Solo was dead, and yet his soul still tormented me, reaching out from beyond the curtain of the past to hinder my actions. The last vestiges of the light within me still festered, tempering my abilities and leading to my ruination.

My trek through the darkness had been an insignificant speck against the canvas of the cosmos, a life just as inconsequential as the one I had left behind. But at last it was over. I relaxed my weakening muscles and let my head sag to the ground. At least I would die one with the darkness. My weakness might have been exposed, but it had not broken me. As I faced the end I remained one with the darkness, something not even Darth Vader had achieved. I would be destroyed, but not defeated.

Unconsciousness pulled at me, and without a further purpose I let it in and welcomed oblivion.


	2. Chapter 1

Many Months Later...

The shuttle bounced through the turbulent atmosphere, the autopilot tracking obediently towards the landing coordinates I had entered. Four minutes to touch down. Four minutes to decide if I really wanted to do this.

The First Order would recover from the fiasco; my reputation in the eyes of Snoke would not. It was not the first time I had failed Leader Snoke, but this was different. Previously he had accepted deficiencies as a lack of judgment and experience, but this time he felt I had reached the limits of my aptitude. He had attempted to hide his displeasure, but I could feel his cold condemnation coursing through my body. Whatever platitudes he offered, it was clear my usefulness to him was waning. Han Solo had warned my tireless devotion to the Supreme Leader would be met with bitter indifference when I no longer served a purpose, but seeing the prediction turn to reality was unsettling.

But I was not beaten. I was not weak. I had no intention of going into a self-imposed exile, hiding from Snoke and the rest of the Universe until time forgot me. The lust for power burned within me stronger than ever. And I still needed to complete the work of my Grandfather.

That left only one way forward, as unimaginable as it seemed. I was not sentimental, I had no intention of trying to make amends with anyone or revisit a past I had tried painstakingly to forget. No, this was about power, about exploiting her empathy to provide me with the safety and resources I needed to continue my work.

She would try to force me to return to the light, but I would resist her. In the end she would be an integral part of realizing the vision of her father.

The Shuttle's wings automatically converted to the landing configuration as it approached the surface, and I heard the landing struts extending. The vessel set gently onto the ground, and I shutdown the engines and lowered the ramp. This was it.

I took slow, purposeful steps down the shuttle ramp, stopping as soon as she came into view. She was flanked by a two troops, each with weapon ready. I suppose I should have expected that; I don't exactly have an amicable relationship with my parents.

"Ben," she said softly, almost inaudibly.

"I see you received my message," I said calmly, choosing for the moment to ignore her use of a name I'd long abandoned.

"I thought it was from you; that's why I am here. But I wasn't sure."

I slowly looked at her guards, then back to Leia. I could see her eyeing the lightsaber hanging at my side. Her emotions were in turmoil: excitement, fear, anxiety all mixing together. She wanted desperately to believe I was here to cast my destiny aside and return to her, but I made no attempt to hide that was not the case. There was no point, my presence in the force was too strong to conceal, and its darkness chilled her to her core.

She motioned towards the others, signaling them to lower their weapons. "Don't worry about the troops; they are loyal to me personally. They will not hurt you."

I stifled a laugh. "Regardless of their intentions, they are no threat to me."

"I thought by now you'd realized you are not invincible," Leia said.

I tilted my head slightly. "Perhaps. But my powers are substantial, and growing." Beneath the mask I smiled slightly. "I can sense their fear, as I sense yours. It gives me strength."

The hopeful look she'd had began to fade. "Why are you here, Ben?"

"That name no longer serves me," I replied, ignoring her question. "Ben Solo is gone."

"No," she said softly. But she couldn't hide her feelings. Part of her was still hopeful, longing for me to turn my back on the dark side so that we could be a family again, well, minus one. But there was also coldness, a disdain bordering on the dark side within her. I was the evil, twisted creature that had killed her husband, along with millions of others. Her love as a mother was in conflict with her contempt for what I was, and it took a tremendous amount of willpower not to give in to her hatred.

"I do not expect you to condone what I have done," I said. "But for the moment, I am neither your son nor your enemy."

"You could never be my enemy, and you are and shall always be my Son," she said forcefully.

I wanted to continue to argue the point, but the truth was she was the only being in the galaxy I could turn to at the moment. As much as I wanted to prove my convictions to her, her false hope was valuable to me. "I doubt your compatriots view me so favorably," I replied. Both men wanted to see me incinerated by blaster fire; one did not need the Force to see that. I was not sure if it was loyalty to Leia or fear of me that kept them from acting on their desires. It was not worth my time trying to find out.

"It is not easy, but I can accept that your actions are not always your own. You will find others have a more difficult time understanding the allure of the Dark Side."

The allure... how droll. She continued to live in the delusional state that somehow the Dark Side is a habit to be broken, an addiction to be cured. She didn't understand true power, and she never would allow herself to. Every action I've taken has been fully my own. I am no one's puppet, no one's stooge. Perhaps one day she would accept my true destiny and respect the power I wielded, but it seemed more likely it was a truth she'd continue to deny to her grave.

"What they believe matters little to me." I continue down the shuttle's ramp, coming within a meter of the woman that had once been my mother. I sensed her even more strongly now. The turmoil remained, but her optimism was agonizingly strong.

She shivered slightly as I got close to her, reacting subconsciously to my own presence in the force. She chose to ignore the sensation. "I have been waiting for you for a long time."

"I do not share in your enthusiasm," I said dryly, "However, for the moment, I am here."

Her face looked darker, the smile she had been struggling to maintain slowly faded. "Why have you come?"

"I no longer serve Leader Snoke," I said bluntly. A burst of optimism was quickly restrained by caution as Leia realized simply disavowing Snoke did not mean I had turned from my dark path. Still, it created an opportunity for her, and that created hope.

"So you have come home."

"There is only one being in the galaxy that has any empathy for me now," I said.

"There was another," she said sadly.

A/N: Thank you all for taking the time to read! I started out simply wondering how Kylo Ren would be received by various other people in the Star Wars universe, and it quickly evolved into an exploration of his inner turmoil and his relationship with his mother and a few other key people (they will show up soon). A special thanks to EsmeAmelia for helping review this chapter—as well as writing some great work that provided inspiration for this story. Reviews are genuinely appreciated, and again, thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this story! I hope you are enjoying, and all favorites, follows, and reviews are truly appreciated!

"We should talk, Ben," Leia said. She glanced up at the towering shuttle. "We need to talk. Privately."

For several seconds I stared back in silence. I had prepared myself for this, but I knew every conversation I had with her would be a test of my resolve. Han Solo had given me the greatest gift he could by helping to extinguish what little light remained in me, but I feared Leia would not stop trying to rekindle it so long as she had breath.

"You wish to return to your headquarters," I said.

"It is six and a half hours by speeder to our base," she said. Of course, I knew that. I had selected the coordinates carefully to ensure that my landing site would be far enough from the Resistance base to avoid being detected. If Leia had not gotten my message, or had one of her underlings decided to disregard her orders, approaching too close to the base would have been suicidal. With sensor stealth systems active an _Upsilon_ shuttle was challenging to spot from more than 100 kilometers away, but the heat trail of re-entry cannot be hidden by technology. Only the curvature of the moon's surface could conceal that.

"There are matters we must discuss before…" her voice trailed off, as she struggled to find the words express her concerns.

"Before you give your friends the opportunity to burn me to ash," I finished her statement.

She swallowed, but did not argue with my assessment. "I can't risk any other Resistance leaders, or remaining Republic leaders, learning that you are here. Not until I can offer some sort of evidence, some sort of guarantee. The more people who know you are the, the more likely they will learn of your presence. "You are my son, Ben. But to them you are a mass murder and war criminal. It will take time for them to understand."

My lips curled into the smallest of smiles. "I am a murder to you too. You see the same monster they do. But you let your emotions cloud your view."

"You are my Son," she repeated with impressive resolve. "No matter how hard you try to run from me, I am your mother. And I can still sense the good in you."

"And I can sense the hatred in you," I said quietly. "I can see your mind; don't deny what you truly feel."

Her discomfort pleased me. She knew what I said was true. "I know you can take my thoughts," she said, "but I don't believe you can understand them."

"Pray that I do not decide to try," I said darkly. "The deeper I look, the less pleasant it will be." In truth, I did not relish the idea of going through her mind. I didn't care about the pain it would bring her, but many of her memories were of a past I had dedicated my life to forgetting. Having to face them again would be agonizing.

"You don't need to look into my mind to find out how I feel," Leia said. "I will tell you. I have always been honest with you Ben. I will always be honest with you." The tears were starting to roll down her cheeks now. I would not succumb to her emotions, nor would I let the sorrow and pain she was feeling influence me. "It will not be easy to forgive you for all that you have done, but hate and anger are the ways of the Dark Side. I will not allow myself to travel down that path, certainly not at the expense of my own son."

"For now, it is irrelevant," I said, ignoring her saccharine display. "We can speak privately in the forward passenger compartment.

She wiped a tear from her cheek, and then turned to her companions. "Wait for me here," She said.

"General-" one of the troops began to protest.

"It is alright," she cut him off. "I will be safe." In reality, her personal safety was not a consideration to her at the moment. All she cared about was a private conversation with who she still thought of as her son. She was willing to die for that if needed. Her compassion and sentiment made her weak.

She followed me back up the ramp, and I led her to the forward compartment where eight comfortable seats were arranged in pairs facing one another. I silently motioned for her to sit, and then did the same across from her.

I could feel the chaos in her. She saw Kylo Ren looking back at her, and longed to understand why. Why I had turned away from her. Why I had overseen acts of genocide and terror. And, perhaps most importantly, why I had taken the life of my own father. It had been more than six months since Solo's death, but the hole in her heart had not yet begun to heal. But she could not bring herself to ask why, at least not yet. Perhaps she feared the answer, or perhaps she worried such a discussion would cause me to pull further away.

With her unsure how to begin, I spoke first: "The Dark Side is stronger in you than before. I can feel it. I am the embodiment of the darkness, of all you despise. You hate me, and you hate yourself for letting me become what I am."

"I want nothing more than to have my son back. Whatever feelings you take, you must see that."

The truth was I could sense her concern, her kindness, her love. It was strong. Disgustingly so. I had to consciously ignore it. Despite all I had, despite the callous execution of her true love, my own father, her mind was focused on what she thought of as my redemption. "Love and devotion are not things to be respected. They are weaknesses that drag us down, that prevent us from realizing our true potential.

A wave a sadness swept across her face. "If you care so little; if you don't need me—why are you here?" she asked.

"Do not mistake me using your compassion as a reliance on it," I said angrily.

"And do not mistake my compassion for blind trust," Leia replied, her face hardening. "I will do anything I can for you Ben, but I cannot risk others lives by blindly trusting you. Deception is a hallmark of the Dark Side."

I reached up to my helmet and carefully removed it, lowering it slowly to my lap. "Look into my eyes," I said slowly. "Tell me what you believe."

Once again, fresh tears welled in her eyes. Why did she need to make this so difficult? "I've waited so long to see that face," she said, studying my features carefully. She leaned forward and ran her finger along a partially healed wound running from my forehead to my cheek. Once again I felt a wave of compassion and sadness from her. I ignored it, fixing my gaze straight ahead. "Your eyes were so vivid and full of life. Full of hope. Now they burn so coldly."

"They now see the Galaxy differently," I said. "I am who I am destined to be. You cannot change that." I paused for a moment, letting my words sink in. "However, we now share a common enemy."

"We do, the darkness inside of you," she said softly. "You may have turned away from Snoke, but you have not won until you cast aside evil, until you are once again one with the light."

My grip tightened around my lightsaber as I fought the urge to unleash my building anger. The tension built throughout my body. With a single blow this obstinate old woman could join my father in an oblivion where she could no longer torment me. But it was not yet the time. Reluctantly I suppressed my fury, feeling my hands shake from the exertion. Still, she knew how exasperating the experience was for me. I might be able to keep her away from my conscious thoughts, by my raw emotions are far too powerful to be concealed.

"Believe what you wish," I said, my resentment of her assertions evident in my voice. "But for now it does not matter. I'm offering you my assistance in stopping Snoke. You seek his destruction based in principal. I seek it for revenge. But why do my motives matter?"

"Because you are what matters," she said. "And I fear for you."


	4. Chapter 3

A/N Thanks to those that have faved and followed! Feedback is always great, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

"General," I heard the staticy voice say, "A First Order Star Destroyer has been detected at the edge of the system and is conducting sensor sweeps. If they detect us, they could be here in under forty minutes."

"What is the closest capital ship we have?"

"The _Emancipator_ is roughly an hour away. But the Star Destroyer will likely intercept any transmission we send. And the _Emancipator_ is no match for a Resurgent Class ship anyway."

"Then we have to evacuate. Notify all personnel." She paused, apparently doing some quick calculations in her head. "I will be arriving back at base in under fifteen minutes aboard a captured _Upsilon_ shuttle. Make sure the defense forces are aware I am onboard."

The officer she was speaking to sounded confused but signaled he would comply. With that, the transmission terminated.

"Aboard a captured _Upsilon_ shuttle," I repeated dryly. "Are you proposing you and your minions are going to take my vessel?"

"No, but I need you to fly this shuttle to our base. I just don't have time to explain this to them," she said with frustration, motioning to me. "And the speeder is far too slow. I need your help."

I nodded, and then proceeded towards the cockpit. She followed me, while her companions remained in the passenger compartment. Knowing I was in some way helping the Resistance left an uncomfortable burning sensation in my chest, but I justified it to myself as being necessary for my own survival. Certainly, I could have simply left aboard my own shuttle, but then what? I slowly began to replace my helmet, but Leia put her hand on my arm.

"I've waited so long to see your face again," she said softly. I hesitated for a moment; then lowered the helmet to the floor. My mask concealed my emotions, preventing others from seeing the uncertainty and fear that occasionally still plagued me. But with the death of Han Solo and my final turn to the darkness I was more in control than ever; the helmet was now an instrument of intimidation, not concealment. Most of the time.

"There is a landing beacon," Leia said. "Six-two-eight-four."

Silently I entered the beacon code into the computer, and the autopilot obediently began to prepare the ship for flight. The hiss of hydraulics indicated the retraction of the ramp, and moments later the atmospheric thrusters came online, their roar dulled by the heavy soundproofing in the hull.

With the autopilot operating properly, I turned my attention back to Leia. Her anxiety was palpable. "You are concerned how I will be received," I said into her thoughts.

If she was irritated with my prying into her mind she did not mention it. "I had hoped for more time to make a case that you bring the Resistance more value as an ally than a prisoner."

"You are their commander," I said bluntly, "simply demand their obedience."

"You underestimate their fear of Kylo Ren," she replied. It was interesting, I thought, that she had decided to use my true name in an attempt to differentiate who they feared from who she wanted me to be. "I may be able to protect you for so time, but not indefinitely. Not unless I can make the others understand."

I nodded silently. That I could understand. The members of her Resistance, for all their talk of loyalty and honor, would cast aside their leader and their morals in favor of revenge. A desire for retribution was certainly understandable. It almost made me respect them. Almost.

The control consul beeped softly as the shuttle began its approach to the beacon Leia had provided. A small cluster of buildings appeared on the horizon, along with a dozen or so temporary launch pads.

"It is larger than I expected for a reconnaissance outpost," I said.

"It is actually going to be…" She corrected herself: "Was going to be a service facility for starfighters operating independently of capital ships." She paused for a moment. "I'm glad to see there are some limits to the First Order's intelligence gathering."

As the shuttle grew closer and slowed to its approach speed, I saw the Resistance base more clearly. Two large buildings, evidently living quarters, flanked a central area of support buildings and landing pads. Two X-wings were present, along with an old Gallofree Medium Transport and the unmistakable silhouette of a YT-1300 freighter.

Leia saw me looking at the unsightly ship. "That was once one of your favorite things in the Galaxy," she said softly. "I thought you would be happy to see it."

"I would have preferred to see it burning in space," I corrected. If she thought the ship would elicit fond memories, she was sorely mistaken.

She frowned. "I use the _Falcon_ for personal trips on occasion," she said. "It was less likely to draw unwanted attention than if I'd used a military transport to get here."

The wings transitioned to the landing configuration, and with a gentle bump the ship settled between the Medium Transport and the _Falcon_. I keyed for engine shutdown and ramp extension as Leia began to get out of her seat.

"Wait here," she instructed. Obviously she was concerned the sudden appearance of a despised enemy might cause some discontent without an appropriate explanation.

"Your concern for my safety is unnecessary," I said, tucking my helmet under my arm and following immediately behind her.

Leia turned and looked at me darkly, but said nothing. A single officer wearing a flight suit had come to meet the shuttle; evidently preparations for the evacuation were demanding most of her people's attention. Several glanced over at the shuttle as they completed their own tasks nearby, but none were close enough to identify the stranger who had emerged from the vessel. I walked down the ramp immediately behind Leia. I do not know if he saw the helmet under my arm, the clothes I was wearing, or had some other connection to his onetime captor, but man in the flight suit recognized me instantly. Without hesitation, he raised his weapon.

My lips curled upward faintly as I tried to suppress the smirk that was forming. I looked down slightly to meet Poe Dameron's gaze.

"So who talks first?" I asked.


	5. Chapter 4

I looked into his eyes, sensing his fear. "You must know by now that weapon is useless against me," I said. After all, it was not the first time he'd tried to shoot me.

"From what I heard Chewbacca got off a pretty good shot," Poe Dameron said. I felt a wave of self-resentment roll through me. It was inexcusable that I had allowed emotional turmoil to distract me Starkiller base, and I still carried a permanent reminder of that mistake. The powerful bowcaster bolt had penetrated my armor and lanced through my torso, leaving what had become a substantial and unsightly scar. The pain, though it had been excruciating, was ultimately inconsequential. Overcoming pain-channeling it into something productive—is a mark of a true warrior. The lack of focus that had prevented me from recognizing the threat was far more troubling.

Of course, such a situation could not repeat itself. Han Solo was dead. I allowed myself a slight smile. "I fear your luck would be quite different."

"He found a way around your bag of tricks," Dameron argued. I had to respect that, despite his obvious fear, his confidence still remained.

"Lower the weapon, Commander," Leia said sternly.

I took a step closer to him, coming up beside Leia. My right hand caressed my lightsaber. I intended to show him the futility of pulling that trigger if he decided to attack me. Inclining my head slightly, I said "I know what you want to do."

Leia was exasperated. "I need you to trust me Poe. I know it is hard to understand, but he is not your enemy. There will be a time to determine how he can make up for his actions in the future, but right now we all need to survive."

Dameron's trigger finger relaxed slightly, but he still held me in his sights. "There is a Star Destroyer searching the system for us; are you telling me he has nothing to do with that?"

"Actually," I said smoothly, "I presume they are looking for me. It would be best for all of us if we are gone when they arrive."

"If you want to get away from them, that sounds like a good enough reason to leave you here," Poe said, still holding the blaster.

"He no longer serves the First Order, and he is my Son," Leia said evenly.

"I've seen firsthand what he is," Dameron replied. "That thing is not your Son."

"You are correct about that, Commander, her Son _is_ gone. However, as the General said, I no longer serve Leader Snoke."

"And we are to simply take his word for that? General-Leia, you are letting your emotions cloud your judgment."

"If I meant you harm, it would have been far easier to take you out from aboard that Star Destroyer," I pointed out.

"Or you have something more vile planned. Some trap Snoke is preparing."

"We must be cautious," Leia conceded, "But for now we don't have a choice. We need to leave. All of us."

"You know I would follow you to the ends of the Galaxy, but this is—" Dameron shook his head.

"I know how it looks, Poe. And your concerns are valid. But we can't give into fear or a desire for revenge. That is not who we are. And he can help us stop Snoke. We need to look at the greater good."

I could feel the tumult in Dameron's mind. He had seen who I was up close, and he was intimately familiar with at least some of my abilities. His fear was palpable, he anger blatantly obvious, but his loyalty to Leia was strong. He believed in her, and despite his concern that her decisions could be compromised by her emotions, he could not bring himself to contradict them. Slowly, Reluctantly, Dameron lowered his blaster.

"I've got a hunch I'm going to regret this," he said, addressing Leia but with his eyes still fixed on me. "As far as getting out of here, we have a problem: the transport's main drive line ruptured when we tried to restart the reactor. The thing is too damn old."

"How long till it is fixed?" Leia asked.

"That's the problem," Dameron said, finally shifting his gaze to Leia, "We don't know if it can be fixed. Finding parts for an old Gallofree is not easy, so we don't exactly have spares sitting around. And building a power conduit from scratch…" He let the words hang in the air.

"Even if it is possible, it would take days." Leia said, finishing the thought.

"Maybe weeks. We have fifty-three people at this base, and no way to get them all off the moon, let alone our equipment and supplies." He looked back at me. "I don't know what you did to piss Snoke off, but thanks for dragging the rest of us into it," he said sarcastically.

"I assume they are looking for me based on a preponderance of the evidence, but the First Order is aware that a Resistance base is located in this sector. It is possible that their arrival is unconnected to my own." I glanced at Leia and back to Dameron.

"Somehow I doubt that."

"I can assure you that Snoke was already quite _pissed off_ with you as well," I said, deciding to use Dameron's own colorful language to make the point clear.

"Good to know. We did blow up his favorite toy," Dameron said with a smirk.

His arrogance was infuriating, but I realized that killing him was not a prudent action at that point in time.

A chirp from his communication device caused him to look down. From the expression that spread across his face I could see the news was not to his liking. "They've found us," he said solemnly. "The Star Destroyer is on its way."

* * *

A/N: So this chapter was a bit shorter than what I normally aim for, but hopefully it was enjoyable. I've found the dynamic between Poe and Kylo interesting, as both are similar in age, ambitious, courageous, and talented but obviously have very different goals and personalities. More excitement to come there, and in Kylo dealing with some other people he know and interesting situations!

Many thanks for all the readers, followers, and people that have favorite this story. And a special thanks to SilverLight0 for the kind review! Thanks again everyone!


	6. Chapter 5

"The _Falcon_ can carry at least thirty," Leia said. "We are not concerned with comfort anymore."

"We have several people rated in X-wings; that takes care of two more." Dameron glanced up at the towering wings of the shuttle. "As much as I hate to put anyone in the blasted thing, an _Upsilon_ is rated for four crew and eight passengers."

"We're still short," Leia said.

"How long would it take to reach your capital ship?" I asked. I had no desire to see any of Leia's underlings spared, but the faster I could find a solution for them, the faster _I_ would be out of the Star Destroyer's reach.

Dameron hesitated for a moment, apparently uncomfortable relaying confidential information despite the predicament. "Our pre-planned emergency rendezvous site is just under an hour from here with a Class Two Hyperdrive."

I turned to Leia. "The passenger limit is due to the capacity of the life support system."

"So for a short flight," Dameron clarified, "we might be ok."

I nodded. "It would be reasonable to assume the vessel can carry about double its normal capacity. Several safety systems must be bypassed, however."

"Can that be done?" Leia asked.

"I will require assistance," I replied.

"Change of plans then," Leia said, a renewed optimism evident in her voice. "We'll load personnel only into the _Falcon_ and the _Upsilon_. We will rendezvous with the _Emancipator_ within a few hours, so we do not need any provisions."

"If we don't get off the ground before that Star Destroyer makes orbit we won't be around long enough to use them anyway," Dameron said.

"I need to see to the evacuation and signal the _Emancipator_ ," Leia said. "I also want to ensure anything sensitive is taken with us or destroyed. Assist Ben as needed, Commander."

Her last instruction did not sit well with him. The idea of working with Kylo Ren was revolting. To him, I was not merely his onetime captor but an ailment impacting the entire Galaxy. "Assist him, General?"

"Is there a problem, Commander?"

"For all I know he's going to jam that lightsaber through my chest the moment you leave," Dameron argued, "He could be playing games in my head right now! How can I work with him?"

"Right now he has just as much reason as us to get off this planet," Leia pointed out. It was her polite way of implying I would not kill him as, for the moment, I needed him. "And I will be back in a few minutes to help if there are any issues."

"You are not evacuating on the _Falcon_?" Dameron asked.

"My place is with my son," she said, "and his place is here." Without another word she walked off across the pad.

Dameron and I entered the cockpit, closing the door behind us. I motioned for him to sit in the left seat; he was the more qualified pilot. "Alone again at last," he murmured.

"If you have feelings of nostalgia, I can certainly restrain you to better recreate your previous experience," I said as I took the station beside him.

Dameron glanced over at me and frowned. "I suppose that is what you consider your sense of humor?" He then added quietly "It's just about a flawed as the rest of you."

I ignored his comment. "The computer will not allow takeoff with more occupants onboard than the vessel is designed for," I said. "The shuttle uses internal sensors to prevent flight if it detects a biological load that exceeds the capacity of the life support system. It is protected by three layers of encryption that must be penetrated to disabled the safety protocols."

"How long will that take?" He asked.

Did I look like a technician to him? "I don't know."

"Probably too long. What about a manual override—you know, hand fly it?"

I looked over at him. Even I was forced to admit that the man sitting next to me was one of the best pilots in the galaxy. His talent was indisputable, but flying an unfamiliar ship with no automated safety limits, no stability assistance, and no autopilot was questionable at best. Unfortunately, I doubted they would accept my preferred alternative: take who we could and leave the rest to die. "Reversionary controls bypass the main computer."

"That keeps things from getting fluxed up by the internal sensors."

I nodded.

"Have you ever hand flown a shuttle on reversionary controls before?" He asked me.

"No." My status with the First Order meant I rarely had to concern myself with something as trivial as flying a spacecraft; any flying skill I had gained in a previous life had atrophied considerably. Basic familiarity with the ship's system and an ability to operate the autopilot were not the same as hand-flying.

"This will be interesting." He took a deep breath, studying the layout of the controls and then flipped several switches. "Controls are set to reversionary on my side."

I mirrored his inputs on my side of the cockpit; shutting down all the safety systems required both pilots to input the same commands. Dameron had no trouble brining other routine systems online despite the non-standard configuration of the shuttle.

For next minute we sat in silence. He looked at me several times, but I remained focused straight ahead. Finally, Dameron broke the quiet: "So, why did Snoke kick you out?"

Slowly I turned to glare at him, giving him a look that suggested further discussion of that topic was unwise.

"Too soon? Ya know, the more you tell us, the more we can trust you. That's how this works. Not that I'm sure I ever could trust you."

"What does it matter?" I asked Dameron, "So long as I can help in what you want to achieve."

"We're not really ends-justify-the-means kinds of people," he replied.

Yet another idiom used by people without the courage to take the actions demanded of them. I looked over at him and smiled coolly, enjoying the disquiet my expression created within him. After a few moments, Dameron regained his composure and was poised to continue with what I was sure would be another noble but otherwise meaningless quip when the cockpit hatch opened.

"We're loaded," Leia said. "The X-wings have already departed and the _Falcon_ will be lifting in thirty seconds. We managed to squeeze thirty four people on it."

"We'll be about a minute behind. Do you have the coordinates for the rendezvous?" Dameron asked. Leia handed him a small data card. "The jump may take some time to compute; we've had to switch to reversionary control."

"Whatever it takes," Leia said evenly. "I trust you both."

The _Millennium Falcon's_ main drive began to glow on the pad next to us, and seconds later the downtrodden old ship rocketed skyward.

"Our turn," Dameron said. "Let's get her light on her feet first, see what she feels like before taking off." He gave the ship just enough power for the controls to respond to his inputs, but not enough to actually lift off. The nose started drifting to the left, the unpleasant sound of the landing struts dragging across the landing pad echoing though the ship.

"Here goes. Watch those engine readouts for me, we won't have any protections and if I burn one up on liftoff we are going to have problems."

I did not respond, but shifted my gaze to the instruments and watched as he carefully brought the repulsorlift engines to full power. The shuttle lifted rapidly off the launch pad, its movements more abrupt than I was used to. Within seconds Dameron engaged the main thrusters, and we began driving towards the sky at a steep angle.

"It wants to pull left," he said. "Can you fix it?" He asked.

"I do not know," I said, looking through the command menus.

"I guess you're not the engineer your father was," Dameron said with frustration.

"I'm nothing that my father was," I hissed angrily. In this instance, however, I could not be entirely sure of that. I did have a familiarity with this vessel that went beyond that of other senior commanders, having studied the schematics at length. Whether that interest in ship systems had come from my father or grandfather I honestly did not know, but I preferred to believe it originated from latter. I finally found what I had been looking for, and entered a command that would allow Dameron to control the engines separately. "You have differential thrust now."

"Thank you," Dameron said. As he adjusted the throttles I could see his strain ease. Some of the abrupt maneuvering that had characterized the takeoff smoothed out. Moments later we began to transition the upper atmosphere, the blue haze of the moon's thin atmosphere giving way to the darkness of space.

And then something felt wrong. "Hard right!" I commanded.

"I don't take orders from-" His words cut off abruptly as a series of bright green laser blasts lanced through our left wing.

A/N: Time for some action—it is Star Wars after all! And Happy May the Fourth to everyone—due to work I couldn't actually post on the Fourth where I live, but is the Fourth somewhere around the globe! Hopefully the flying parts are not _too_ in depth; I am a pilot so whenever aircraft (err spacecraft) are involved I like some detail, but I'm trying not to go overboard! Writing fanfic is a nice break from reading checklists, but you spend enough time in the cockpit and it starts to show elsewhere!

Thanks again to everyone who has taken the time to read, review, favorite, and/or follow. Your feedback is always appreciated!


	7. Chapter 6

Instinctively Dameron pushed forward on the controls and dove right. "I need shields and weapons!"

After his last outburst I felt compelled to remind him that I did not take orders _from him_ , but to my dismay the situation was to urgent for a protracted dispute. I brought the shields online and began powering the dual twin laser cannons.

"What was that?" Leia asked.

"Tie fighters," Dameron said as he scanned the screen. "Looks like four of them. They must have launched as soon the Star Destroyer entered the system."

"But if the Star Destroyer had not located us, how did the fighters find us?" Leia asked.

"They sent them to every planet and moon in the system," I said. "It is a favorite tactic of General Varral."

"Hedging his bets," Dameron said. "The Ties spread out across the system with sensor stealth systems active, all unnoticed while we are focused on the Star Destroyer. Then they can swat down anyone trying to escape."

I growled at my own ineptitude. I'd assumed Snoke would send Hux after me, but I should have known better. After years of serving together aboard the _Finalizer_ , I simply knew Hux too well. I understood how the supercilious General thought. Varral, the marginally competent commander of the _Belligerent_ , would be harder for me to predict. His rudimentary tactics were lacking when compared to Hux's, but I was not intimately familiar with them either. I could not help but wonder how Hux had taken the news he would not be given the opportunity to burn me from the sky.

"It is only four," Dameron said, "but this thing flies like a wounded Bantha." Of course it did. The fighter pilot seemed to forget he was flying a transport. _Upsilon_ shuttles were robust enough to stand up in combat, but were never intended to enter a hostile area unescorted. The shields, though powerful, would not be able to stand up to a sustained bombardment from four Ties.

"Where is the _Falcon_?" Leia asked.

"Several thousand klicks ahead of us," Dameron responded. "But they are turning around."

I could sense Dameron's confidence. We were at a tactical disadvantage, yet he was more relaxed than he had been on the ground during the evacuation. This was his element, and his faith in his own abilities was absolute.

"If I bring us around, can you target the lasers?" Dameron asked. I was surprised for a moment—the targeting system was woefully simple, and normally a single pilot handled both flying and weapons systems. But in reversionary mode Dameron did not have a free hand to actuate the controls.

"Yes, but how are you going to get them in the weapons employment zone?" I asked. The powerful laser cannons were primarily weapons of intimidation, not combat. They had a firing arc of less than forty degrees, meaning any target had to be more or less in front of the shuttle. It left our flanks dangerous vulnerable to the maneuverable ties.

"Just be ready." Abruptly he brought the left engine to idle power while jamming the right throttle full forward. The shuttle aggressively spun to the left, and I felt myself pressed against my restraints by the growing G-forces. The Ties had been unprepared for such a violent maneuver.

As the formation of fighters came into view, I targeted the lead ship. Our high rate of turn made it difficult to lock onto a target, but I fired a single blast of the laser cannons that incinerated the left solar panels of the lead fighter and its pilot began to break off. Tie Fighters, however, are not known for their robust design. The smoldering solar panel caused the fuel cell for the atmospheric maneuvering thrusters to ignite, blasting the ship apart and sending flaming wreckage through the path of a second fighter.

The second ship was only slightly damaged, but its pilot elected to withdraw leaving us with two opponents. Recognizing the skill of the shuttle's pilot, they were careful to maintain a position that kept them well clear of our weapons. Several laser blasts hit our rear shields as Dameron executed a series of defensive maneuvers.

The smaller, lighter fighters easily kept up with the shuttle, but there fixation on us left them unprepared for the quad laser blasts from the _Millennium Falcon_. Unlike the glancing blow I had landed on the lead ship, the _Falcon's_ lasers hit dead center on one of the Ties, immediately puncturing the cockpit and venting its atmosphere into space. With a dead pilot and damaged controls, the ship began to veer slowly to its left, where it would likely meet its final demise in an uncontrolled reentry into the moon's atmosphere.

The final fighter realized that two armed ships presented an overwhelming challenge and began maneuvering to withdraw. The _Falcon_ fired several shots after it, but the nimble fighter was able to dodge successfully and soon it was out of range.

"We're not out of the woods yet," Dameron said. "That first shot created a surge that damaged the navigational computer. We can't calculate a hyperspace jump."

"Can the _Falcon_ feed us data?" Leia asked.

Dameron shook his head. "The systems are not compatible. If we had more time… but the Star Destroyer will be here in ten minutes. And that's game over."

"We're on our own, then," Leia said solemnly. She pulled out a hand held communicator. "Organa to _Falcon_ : Precede to the rendezvous coordinates, we will meet you there."

"Wait!" I said more intensely than I intended.

"Falcon, standby."

Dameron called, "they are launching more fighters."

"Move us farther from the moon," I instructed Dameron. I looked at Leia. "Tell the Falcon to proceed, but match speed to a class 1.5 hyperdrive."

Leia was confused for a moment, but she realized what I intended to try. I could tell she didn't like it, but we had not other options. I closed my eyes and reached out to the Force, feeling my way through the galaxy. Its vastness was incomprehensible, millions of clusters, billions of stars, trillions of lives. Amongst that backdrop I had to find a single target, a solitary vessel amongst the backdrop of the cosmos.

I reached for the shuttle's controls, my hand shaking from the mental exertion.

"What are you doing?"

"Do not interfere," I warned. The strain in my voice made it sound alien, even to my own ears. I reached for the hyperspace lever.

"You can't fly manually through hyperspace," Dameron warned. "Trillions of planets, moons, stars, asteroids—all out there waiting to turn us into a flaming hulk when we hit them. Do you know what the chances are of successfully completing a hyperspace jump with _no_ calculations?

"I do not concern myself with odds," I said. And we had calculations: the _Falcon's._

"Let him try," Leia said calmly.

"He can barely fly this thing normally," Dameron protested, "How is he going to hand fly in hyperspace."

"The Force is a powerful ally," Leia said simply.

There it was, several light years ahead. The _Millennium Falcon_. I could feel her crew, their anxiety, their concern, all evident through the Force. But most importantly, I could feel their location. Without hesitation I pushed the hyperspace lever forward.

* * *

A/N: Some more action for this chapter. Thanks again to everyone who has read, followed, and favorited. Reviews and feedback would be greatly appreciated—always motivational to get the next chapter our and extremely useful to get feedback on the writing itself! Especially interested in folks thoughts Poe/Kylo dynamic; that has been an interesting balancing act to write—there is no love between those two, but they are both mission driven!

Thanks again, and have a great one!


	8. Chapter 7

The _Millennium_ _Falcon_ was a single candle amongst a universe of flames, a single molecule hidden deep inside a roiling star. Maintaining contact with it demanded unyielding concentration and a single minded resolve. It required me to devote my entire consciousness to a sole purpose of following the ship, letting the Force flow through me without restriction. It remained an exhausting struggle.

My training had relentlessly pushed the limits of my fortitude and physical endurance. My capacity to take the strain of using the Force had been demonstrated, but to maintain such a level of connection for so long proved laborious.

The fatigue was creeping through me, a malady that was beginning to manifest itself as physical discomfort and engaged in a dogged pursuit to usurp my concentration. I fought it, shielding my mind from all stimuli not relevant from the task at hand. All I could feel was the Force itself and what it was telling me, my only connection to the physical universe the tactile sensation of my hands on the shuttle's controls.

And suddenly the _Falcon_ was drifting further way. Slowly at first, than faster, and finally it disappeared against the vastness of the galaxy.

The blackness engulfed me for several seconds as my mind struggled to comprehend what had occurred. Before any answers appeared I felt myself being shaken, warm hands pulling my now limp body out of the seat and laying it on the frigid metal floor of the cockpit. Cold sweat covered my body, my chest ached from heavy breathing, and I felt numb all over.

My vision was hazy, my eyes wet with tears and sweat that diffused the light in random patterns. They were talking to me, but the persistent ringing in my ears made it difficult to interpret. I was not motivated to try either. A sense of failure was cascading through me, an avalanche of self loathing. Once again I had tried to stretch my abilities, to push the limits of my power, and once again I had failed catastrophically. For all my dedication, for all my sacrifice, certain aspects of the Force still eluded me. I had sacrificed everything I had, given everything I could, and yet I still lacked the strength that had defined Darth Vader.

The words of my mother broke through the disconcerting haze. "You did great Ben. You did great." I could feel her hand in mine, squeezing tightly. In another repulsive moment of weakness I allowed myself to take solace in her words, my mind embracing her kindness rather renouncing it. It was yet another failure, a disgusting reminder of how many failings I had yet to overcome. Recognition of what had occurred would cause boiling resentment within me within me only moments later, but for those few seconds of weakness I could not resist her compassion.

I blinked several times and Poe Dameron's face became clear, staring down at me with a blank expression. It was an impassive mask, a futile attempt to conceal a bizarre mixture of thoughts and emotions he did not fully understand. I knew he had no empathy for the creature he saw lying on the floor, but he did care for Leia and understood the impact my suffering had on her.

There was also a sense of disappointment and self-doubt, possibly a product of wounded professional pride. Dameron was widely recognized for his flying skill, even First Order pilots grudgingly admitted he was among the best in the Galaxy. Despite his qualifications, I had just demonstrated a talent he could not posses and flown in a manner he could never achieve. For me, it was a straightforward—albeit demanding-process of keeping the ship pointed in the direction the Force told me to go.

The pain of my exertion continued flooding through my body, but I was beginning to feel in control once again. I was able to channel it, sharpening my senses and speeding my recovery. I was still panting heavily, but I could think clearly again.

Recognizing my improvement, Dameron let a sly smile creep across his face. "I gotta be honest," he said. "It seems like someone always ends up looking like _that_ when you mess with this Force stuff. I'm glad it was your turn this time. At least we're alive."

He glanced back at the command consul. "The battle damage was more extensive than we thought," Dameron said, delivering an appreciated reprieve from his wit to focus on the issues at hand. "Secondary compressors failed on the hyperdrive. Better than a motivator blowing, but we aren't going anywhere unless you happen to have a spare."

"But we are close to the _Emancipator_ ," Leia said, a distinct confidence in her voice. "They will search for us, and they will find us."

"It will take hours," Dameron said, looking gloomy. He paused for a few seconds, his eyes showing his concentration as he ran several rough calculations in his head. "Depending on where they start a search pattern and the methodology they use, up to twelve hours." He looked across the displays again, his eyes catching another indication of bad news. "And we are venting atmosphere."

The cockpit was silent for several seconds. The life support system was already overtaxed, and it was questionable if it could sustain everyone for twelve hours. With precious air leaking out through battle damage, sustaining everyone until the _Emancipator_ arrived was simply not possible.

"We need to determine the vessels life support capacity given the new circumstances," I said. "We must also determine which of your compatriots are expendable."

"That is _not_ an option," Leia said firmly. Once again, I could sense her revulsion despite her effort to hide it beneath a calm exterior. The fact I could unemotionally suggest the extermination of her people, even if my logic was irrefutable, troubled her greatly.

"You just want an excuse to kill, don't you?" Dameron asked accusingly. "You are salivating at the opportunity to shed blood."

"Do not attempt to ascribe meaning to my actions beyond simple practicality," I replied. "Indifference to someone's death does not imply desire." Despite my protestations, the idea of killing some of the plebeians we were saddled with was appealing.

"We don't operate like that. Of course, if we did, I'd imagine a homicidal psychopath with a track record of genocide would not fare well in the rankings," Dameron warned.

I couldn't help smirking. "Colorful language aside, my name is not up for consideration."

"It's the first one on _my_ list," he replied angrily.

"Enough!" Leia interjected. "This is a useless discussion. We are not sacrificing anyone."

"I do not intend to give you a choice," I replied. I locked eyes with Leia, and she recoiled slightly as she saw the ice behind my gaze. "Compassion is not a substitute for reason," I said coolly. "Hope does not negate reality."

"There is always an option," Leia said. Her voice was softer now, as if she was trying to get me to understand her point of view rather than force it upon me.

"I will do what must be done to survive," I said. "However, should you desire time to investigate alternatives, I am willing to acquiesce." There was time, but with the ship slowly venting oxygen the longer we waited the less breathable atmosphere we would have. "You recognize that all decisions have consequences," I said. She knew what I was implying: the less oxygen, the more people I would need to kill in order to sustain myself and whoever else I deemed worthy of survival.

"We are going to get through this, Ben," she said patiently.

Dameron eyed me suspiciously. "Our passengers should be informed about the situation."

"I'll tell them why we've stopped," Leia said, moving towards the door.

"That's not exactly what I meant," Dameron said. "The need to know about him too," he continued, nodding towards me.

"Right now they need reassurance. They need hope." Leia said. "Not fear."

Dameron looked even more morose than moments before. "You are going to need to tell them. They will find out, and the longer you wait the more of their trust you will lose."

"I respect your feelings, Poe," Leia said in a tone that suggested she was offering careful consideration to his opinion. "But we are in a difficult situation. Adding additional tension by informing them of Ben's presence is not something I want to do at this time."

Dameron motioned to the command displays. "Tension might not be optional," he said. "We have company."

"What is it?" Leia asked.

"A military vessel," he said, glancing back at Leia. "And it's not one of ours."

* * *

A/N: Thank you again for all the faves and follows, and a special thank you to DeeCee1430 for the Review and Feedback.

Lots more to come in the next few chapters! The First Order's hunt for Kylo is not over, while members of the Resistance argue over what fate is appropriate for him. Kylo himself struggles to contain his own aggression but manages to further antagonize those around him. And of course there is the topic of Han Solo…

Hope you all keep reading, and please follow, like, and review. I sincerely appreciate the feedback!

Thank you!


	9. Chapter 8

" _Quasar_ Class heavy cargo ship," I identified the vessel.

"That is a _freighter?_ " Dameron asked in disbelief. "I've seen frigates with fewer weapons emplacements."

"They are built to operate long range missions without escort." I turned and glared at Dameron. "Your compatriots have made extensive defenses necessary."

"First time I've ever regretted making the First Order nervous," Dameron said quietly.

"Why are they here?" Leia asked.

"Probably because of this thing," Dameron said, waving his hand around the cockpit. "Our brilliant First Order tactician made his escape in the most recognizable ship in the quadrant."

I growled under my breath. There were reasons I had chosen this vessel. _Upsilon_ shuttles have great endurance, advanced automation, extensive sensor stealth systems, and substantial survival equipment including several weeks of emergency rations. This particular shuttle was also my primary personal transport, and was always kept loaded with various personal items, like clothing, in the event I was required to depart for an extended mission on short notice. I was not compelled to waste time explaining this to Dameron, but there was an additional benefit of my selection that was irrefutable. "And had I not, your friends would be facing an orbital bombardment from a Star Destroyer."

Dameron had the gall rolled his eyes. "Because thing look so much better now. At least back on the moon I had my X-wing."

I resisted the urge to snort. "You had two fighters; attacking a Star Destroyer with such a force would have been suicidal. All you would have ensured is that you and your wingman died before the rest of your friends."

"Do not doubt what can be accomplished with a small number of starfighters." He smiled slightly. "You do remember Starkiller base, don't you?"

"Please," Leia interrupted before I had the opportunity to respond. "We don't have time to linger in the past. What matters is what we do now."

Pulling myself back into the co-pilot chair, I began to consider our options. _Quasar_ ships were built for deep space missions, meaning they frequently operated independently for weeks, or even months, at a time. There was good chance this vessel had not been in contact with its command structure since before I had left the First Order, meaning they might not have been notified that Kylo Ren had fallen from favor with the Supreme Leader. As much as I disliked leaving things to chance, it did present an interesting possibility.

"This may not be an insurmountable problem," I said, careful to keep my tone level despite the twinge of excitement I felt. It was important to remain unemotional and pragmatic, even upon discovering a new opportunity. I also did not want be accused of anything as pathetic as the inexorable hope Leia seemed to project at the most inappropriate times. "It is possible they still believe I hold a leadership position within the First Order," I said.

Leia raised an eyebrow. "Possible?"

"Given the mission profile of this type of ship, they are in contact with command relatively infrequently."

"So you can just tell them to go away?" Dameron asked.

"That would be the wisest course of action," I said. A disabled command shuttle hanging randomly in space would certainly raise suspicion amongst the crew—hence why they were investigating—but could be explained with relative ease as some variety of covert mission.

"Perhaps not," Leia said. "We may be able to use this to our advantage. You are saying they will obey your commands?"

I nodded, wondering where she was going. I could sense a flash of optimism from her, similar to but far more substantial than the repugnant feeling I had suppressed moments before. "Assuming they still acknowledge my authority."

"Then we get them to repair the ship."

I snapped my head around to look at her. "You are requesting," I said calmly, careful to offer no indication of my surprise, "that First Order soldiers board this ship?"

"You said you control them," she said evenly.

"Loyal troops will obey my instructions, but arriving with a shuttle full of Resistance fighters…" I let my voice trail off.

"He's right," Dameron said, the thought of agreeing with me clearly not sitting well with him. "Think about it; if Admiral Ackbar showed up on a ship full of stormtroopers we wouldn't know if we could trust anything he said. Even if they are willing to follow his orders they are going to assume he is somehow under our influence."

"They will be compelled to accept my leadership, both by protocol and fear of retribution," I said in an ominous tone, "but my instructions will be cast under suspicion. That could be perilous… for all of us."

"Do you have an alternative that allows for the survival of everyone on this ship?"

"This could go south real fast," Dameron warned.

She looked at Dameron. "You and I have both been captured by the enemy and lived to tell about it," Leia pointed out. If she was attempting to assuage his fears it did not seem to be working; I could feel apprehension running through him as he thought back to his time in my custody. "I would rather risk detainment than condemn anyone to death."

I looked back out the windscreen at the approaching ship. There was a very real chance detainment _would_ condemn her people to death, but I could tell she knew that. It was a risk she was willing to take, another gamble she was accepting after a history similar long-shot strategies coming to fruition.

"You are an integral part of the Resistance," I said, trying one last attempt to convince her of her folly. "Your capture or death would be devastating to the fight against the First Order. Is that a risk you are willing to take?"

"I will not condemn anyone to death," she repeated. Her resolve was evident both in her words and her presence in the Force. She would do whatever it took to protect her friends, and Dameron and the others would follow her lead. That in and of itself was not an insurmountable problem; I was confident I could restrain or exterminate everyone on the ship if necessary, but doing so would undoubtedly limit my options to leverage Resistance resources to pursue my future aspirations.

I took a deep breath. "There may be a plausible explanation I can offer," I said, knowing that the alternative I was about to propose was hazardous for several reasons. I glanced over at Dameron. "You are not going to like this," I said.

"I haven't liked anything having to do with you since Jakku," Dameron said, "why start now?"

"Everyone on this ship is now my prisoner," I said. "You must see to it that they are convincingly restrained."

"You expect them to believe you captured more than twenty people and are single-handedly taking them back to the First Order?" Dameron sounded stunned by my audacity.

"You doubt my capacity to do so?" I asked icily.

I could see Dameron's mind flicker back to our first meeting on Jakku and the failure of his attempted assassination. "No," he answered quietly.

"Loyal troops of the First Order will not doubt me either," I said.

"And if you're wrong about them being out of touch?" Dameron asked.

"You will interrogated, then either executed or sent to a labor camp. I will most likely be brought before the Supreme Leader."

"Even as a traitor you get the better deal."

"I would not describe what Snoke intends to do to me as the 'better deal.'" I countered bitterly. Dameron had experienced Force induced pain as a byproduct of my mind-sifting; he could not comprehend the agony that a force user could intentionally project on their victim. Snoke would kill me, but not before an indescribable period of suffering and anguish.

The comm crackled with a brief burst of static, followed by a precise military voice. " _Upsilon_ shuttle, this is the First Order vessel _Halberd_. Please identify yourself." It was unusual to hear a First Order officer requesting anything so politely. _Upsilon_ shuttles, however, were used primarily by Admirals, Generals, and special agents of the Supreme Leader; the commander of the _Halberd_ wisely realized it was a good idea to exercise caution and demonstrate respect.

Leia and Dameron both looked at me. "I will attempt to delay them until you are able secure yourselves and your companions," I said. If my postulation was correct about the nature of the _Halberd's_ mission those aboard the vessel still knew me as a loyal servant of Snoke and one of the most powerful men in the First Order. I would reinforce that perception. I carefully replaced my helmet. "Move away from the holopad," I instructed before activating it.

The holo projector on the other vessel would have clicked online, but instead of a familiar quarter scale human figure the crew of the _Halberd_ was being treated to a close-up of my helmet. It was a method of intimidating underlings Emperor Palpatine had apparently been fond of, and the Supreme Leader "I am Kylo Ren of the First Order aboard the shuttle _Blood Hawk_ ," I said, letting a hint of menacing authority settle into my voice. Commanding First Order troops felt natural.

It took several seconds for the ship to respond, but the holopad on the control console came alive with the image of two officers. Due to the limited space available in the cockpit of the shuttle the image generated by the holopad was considerably smaller than that seen on capital ships, but their discomfort was evident. "Master Ren, I am Major Negol, commander of the _Halberd_ ," the shorter of the pair said. "My crew and I stand by ready to assist you." His voice was different than the one that had originally contacted the shuttle, suggesting the Major had relieved his subordinate at the communications station upon realizing who they were dealing with. He paused for a moment, and I could hear him swallow. "I respectfully request you submit a command code to verify your identity, sir."

"Do you doubt my word, Major?" I said darkly. The more intimidated he was now, the easier he would be to deal with.

"No, sir, of course not, but protocol dictates that—"

"Protocol does not concern me," I said, allowing anger to seep into my voice. "I am not bound by the same rules as you."

"Respectfully, sir," the Major said, almost pleadingly, "I simply have no way of verifying your authority without a code. Once that is accomplished-" his voice trailed off as he became distracted by the sounds of the man next to him being asphyxiated.

The taller man reached for his throat, trying to force away the invisible hand that was gripping him. I tightened my grasp, feeling the neck muscles struggling against the unyielding power of the Force. Lack of oxygen was causing his legs to weaken, but I hold on his neck kept him upright.

"I believe that should be sufficient _verification_ ," I spat out, releasing the officer on the other ship. He crumpled to the ground, gasping as he struggled to take in the oxygen he had been unexpectedly deprived of. If Negol had been unsettled before, he was clearly terrified now.

"Yes, sir, I—" Negol was no fool, and he realized that he was in a precarious situation. Disregarding established protocols that are used to establish command authority was dangerous, but incurring the wrath of Kylo Ren was even more so. I smiled tightly beneath my mask. This display of my abilities would certainly encourage cooperation from anyone who heard of it.

"My vessel will require repairs," I said bluntly. "The automated docking system is inoperable. Bring it aboard with a tractor beam and I will inform of you of my specific needs then."

"Immediately, sir."

I terminated the transmission. It would take several minutes for the _Halberd_ to bring us aboard. I considered checking on the Leia and Dameron's progress, but decided my presence would lead to increased anxiety. Whatever method Leia felt was most appropriate to cajole her minions into their restraints was likely the most effective one.

The _Halberd_ loomed large in the front windshield. Over 500 meters in length, it dwarfed the shuttle. It had a cavernous docking bay on both sides, and the tractor beam operator was slowly but skillfully lining us up to enter one.

"We had to improvise," Leia said as she walked back into the cockpit, "but it is done."

"You better not be planning something," Dameron said coldly. He was wrapping high strength electrical cable around his ankles.

"I do not need the restraints to control them," I replied, "they are purely for the benefit of First Order soldiers."

The shuttle cleared the outer shield of the docking bay. I keyed in the commands to move the wings to the landing configuration. One responded obediently, the other hesitated before finally giving way with the sound of grinding metal. Once the tractor beam operator saw the shuttle's landing gear was fully extended he allowed the vessel to settle to the hangar floor with a thud.

A/N: So this is the chapter that kept growing until it was over 2000 words… I guess Kylo gets a little verbose sometimes; hopefully it is worth the read!

Thanks again to everyone that has taken the time to read, favorite, and follow. A special thanks to Fern Haddock for the extremely kind review! As for your question, Rey will be coming but it will be a few chapters… Kylo, Leia, and Poe have a few more things to deal with first!

Feedback is always greatly appreciated, and it means a lot! Thanks again for taking the time to read, and I hope you continue to enjoy!


	10. Chapter 9

"Your companions understand it is imperative they behave as prisoners?" I asked.

"I told them we had someone who could pass as a high level First Order official onboard, but to pull off the illusion they must appear to be his captives," Leia said as she helped Dameron finish securing his own restraints.

"Put these around my wrists," she said to me.

I did as she requested. "Then they still do not know who I am?" I asked her.

Dameron shook his head before Leia responded. "The General still insists it is not the time."

"This charade creates unnecessary complications," I said. I had doubts that their belief I was a Resistance official portraying Kylo Ren would bring forth the same genuine terror that recognition of my true identity would. If the crew of the _Halberd_ was perceptive they might notice inconsistencies. "My prisoners _must_ fear me."

"That's nice," Dameron said sarcastically.

I smiled slightly beneath my mask. It was courteous of him to prove my line of thinking was not without merit. He would need to help me resolve the situation. Without warning I grabbed Dameron's neck, and pulled him out of the cockpit. He grunted, but my grip was sufficiently firm he could not protest. I could sense the surprise and concern from those in the main cabin as we emerged.

His arms and legs now restrained by cable, he tumbled forward as I released him. Unable to stop his fall, he impacted the cold metal floor face first. A small trickle of blood began to flow from his nose. I surveyed the room of concerned faces. "I am Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren and servant of Supreme Leader Snoke. You are my prisoners."

"There is no need to actually injure him," one man said angrily from a prone position on the floor.

I turned to the man and cocked my head slightly as I studied him. He was a bit older than the others, and quite possibly more senior in rank. I kicked him in the jaw with my boot, resulting in a gratifying crack. Several people cried out in surprise or fear, and I felt the mood in the room darken.

"I believe you may have an incorrect understanding of the situation," I said. "I have no intention of perpetrating a ruse that will somehow be your salvation," I said.

I turned back to Dameron and pulled him roughly to his knees. "Tell them who I am."

Dameron hesitated for a moment, caught between his desire to tell the truth and his reverence for Leia's wishes. Evidently he determined Leia's strategy was no longer tenable. "He's Kylo Ren."

I sensed a great deal of confusion. They were reluctant to doubt their General, and several still held out hope that this was somehow part of her plan. Others began to realize my unrestrained violence did not fit with what was expected from a Resistance operative.

In order to eliminate any doubt, I pulled Dameron to his feet—this time with the Force.

"He's the real Kylo Ren," Dameron confirmed, struggling to project his voice despite my grasp on his throat. He opened his mouth to speak again, but at that point I had heard quite enough from him. Tightening my grip slightly effectively silenced the pilot, and moments later I released him, allowing him to crumple to the floor once more.

There was silence in the cabin as a wave of despair settled across the room. Even Dameron's own mind was drowning in uncertainty, wondering if his fears of me betraying them had come to fruition. The rest of them had no such bewilderment: somehow Kylo Ren had made his way aboard their shuttle, and their futures were now in his blood stained hands.

"You are my prisoners," I said. "Resist me and you will be destroyed." I could sense their dread, and I smiled faintly beneath my mask. I was among one of the most feared beings in the Galaxy. My presence inspired unmitigated terror wherever I set foot. I allowed myself a moment to indulge in their emotions, taking pride in the abject fear I had created.

I looked back at the man I had kicked, blood running from his mouth as he fought the pain of his broken jaw. "Do not test me, you will regret it."

I did not bother to clean the blood from my boot as I walked to the front of compartment, leaving it as a small reminder of what it meant to defy me. Before extending the ramp I let my mind flow through the cargo bay, trying to pick any signs of deception from the Force. I had expected the Major and his senior officers to meet the shuttle; he had in fact turned out every crew member on the ship not required at their stations.

Content that there was no immediate risk, I lowered the ramp. It dropped smoothly to the hangar bay floor, hissing slightly as compressed gasses were released. I took slow, measured steps down the ramp, drawing myself to my full height. Nearly one hundred officers and crewmembers were assembled, several of them valiantly trying to maintain a precise military bearing despite being roused from bed only moments before.

Five officers were positioned directly in front of the ramp, a cordon of more than a dozen stormtroopers positioned behind them. The man in the center was recognizable as Major Negol; he had appeared somewhat short during our conversation but was in fact nearly my height, and as he stepped forward I noticed his eyes were level with my own. The man who I had asphyxiated while proving my identity was to Negol's right, and absurdly tall and lanky officer who showed no outward signs of the experience. Inwardly, however, he was still shaken.

"Welcome aboard the _Halberd,_ sir," Major Negol said.

I nodded silently in acknowledgement.

"My senior officers," he said, motioning behind him. It seemed for a moment as if he was going to waste my time by introducing his underlings, but he wisely reconsidered. "I apologize for any lack of hospitality," Negol continued. "We are not used to having guests of your stature aboard our humble vessel."

"Commanders in the First Order must be prepared for all eventualities," I said ominously. Negol tensed visibly. He knew what was at stake here: an unannounced visit from a senior leader of the First Order could be the greatest opportunity of his career—or the end of it. Ironically, no matter how well Negol performed, his career—and his life—would likely be cut short by this encounter. Snoke was unforgiving, and rendering assistance to someone he branded a traitor was certainly an invitation to experience his wrath. The fact that Negol had no way of knowing I had fallen from the Supreme Leader's favor would be of no consequence to Snoke. And for the moment, whatever fate was to befall Negol was of no consequence to me.

"Of course, sir," Negol added, "I did not mean to imply—we simply do not have visiting officer quarters or other luxuries onboard. My quarters, of course, are available for your use. Any other facilities aboard the vessel are completely at your disposal."

The idea of visiting a refresher was appealing. After days on the shuttle and the strain of the past several hours even the briefest of showers would be rejuvenating. However, I could not risk leaving the Resistance members unattended with Negol and his men: there were too many things which could go wrong. Furthermore, time was of the essence. If the _Emancipator_ arrived searching for us before the _Halberd_ departed the area I would have decidedly few options left. I had found my presence alone was effective motivation for members of the First Order.

"Fortunately for you, I am not interested in your capabilities as a host but your efficiency as a military unit."

Color returned to the Major's face. "I believe we will impress you there, sir."

"I hope so." I looked back at my ship. "The shuttle has incurred material damage and is venting atmosphere. Your engineers will repair the damage."

"Yes, sir," Negol nodded.

"Additional damage may have been sustained by the life support systems. I want them restored to normal operating capacity by whatever means are necessary."

"Understood sir," Negol replied.

"The work shall be complete within the next hour."

Negol blinked. It was a demanding order. Even aboard the _Finalizer_ the maintenance staff would have been reluctant to commit to such a tight deadline; Negol knew that with the limited resources of the _Halberd_ it would be an even more daunting task. He also knew he had no choice.

A/N: Kylo continues to have a lot to say at the last minute; every time I go back over an existing chapter it ends up taking a lot longer than I expect and things get a lot longer. I wanted to get a second chapter out this week, so I decided to split up the adventures aboard the _Halberd_ into three parts instead of two—hopefully it still flows well!

As always, THANK YOU for taking the time to read, favorite, and follow! It means the world. A special thank you to Fern Haddock (yes, I'm waiting for Rogue One and VIII-not sure if I'd say patiently though) and Aubrey Ren (here is more!) for the reviews!

Thanks again!


	11. Chapter 10

"Lieutenant Garr, you heard our orders," he said, his voice firm and authoritative as one would expect of a commanding officer. "Assemble a team and get it done. Now!"

Minutes later, six engineers were on the shuttle, frantically trying to locate the numerous leaks in the pressure vessel. I observed their work, satisfied by their dedication and apparent efficiency. Of course, their work ethic may have been influenced heavily by the subtle threat my presence implied. It was known throughout the First Order that I had a limited tolerance for failure and was quite willing to share my displeasure with others.

I also kept a watchful eye on my prisoners. They cowered when I looked at them, and pulled away as much as their restraints allowed when I approached them. It was exactly the response to be expected from prisoners of the First Order.

The cabin was filled with contempt and confusion. Occasionally I would sense a hint of cautious optimism appear, but quickly dispatch it by inflicting a minor but painful injury at random. In one case a young man had the audacity to ask why they had not yet been transferred off of the shuttle. Dameron shot him a warning look, but once the question was asked I had to respond appropriately.

I stared down at the man for several seconds, letting the tension build within his mind. "Are you that eager for interrogation?" I asked quietly.

In a show of arrogance and contempt, the man used his bound hands to push himself into a seated position. "I'm not afraid of you," he said firmly. His mind indicated otherwise.

I stepped forward, placing my right boot on top of his restrained hands, forcing them against the floor and slowly increasing the pressure. "You lie," I said, pausing for a moment to appreciate the sound of a small bone cracking. "You may be able to hide your terror from your friends, but I can see what is in your mind."

"Then you know I'm willing to die for what I believe," he said, his voice wavering slightly as he coped with the pain. Another bone broke with a staccato crack.

"Death is hardly the worst fate that could await you," I countered darkly. "I am quite familiar with many things far more unsettling." As darkness settled through the young man's mind, I looked up, sensing someone approaching from behind me. They stopped a respectful distance away, unwilling to risk interrupting my conversation—and apparently unaware they actually had.

I turned around, twisting my foot across the young Resistance fighter's hand as I did. I could feel the bones breaking and tendons tearing through the sole of my boot, and the man cried out in pain.

Lieutenant Garr, the Chief Engineer, stood several paces away from me. I took a step forward, closing the distance. I looked down at the short, svelte man. His young face showed discomfort, both from what he had just witnessed and from the thought of addressing me personally. It was the anxiety of a man facing true power for the first time. "Yes, Lieutenant," I acknowledged.

"My men are nearly done sealing the hull leaks," he said in a respectful tone. "The life support systems have been more of a challenge."

"You did not interrupt me only to deliver an unfavorable report," I said.

"Of course not, my Lor—sir—I, ah…" The young man took in a sharp breath as he composed himself. "We do not have appropriate spares for an _Upsilon_ shuttle onboard, but we have devised a way to add components we carry for our own ship to your life support system. It is highly inefficient, but it should provide capacity comparable to a properly functioning system."

"How long will it take you to complete the work?" I asked. If the _Emancipator_ arrived while the _Cyclops_ was still in the system our delicate ruse would quickly fall apart.

"The assemblies are being fabricated now, and nearly complete," Garr replied. "Installation should take less than thirty minutes."

"Good. I will remember your competence."

Garr smiled slightly, then the disquiet expression returned. "However, sir, I do not believe we have the ability to repair other damage you have sustained."

"If I wished any other repairs I would have instructed your commander to do so," I replied.

"Of course, sir, but the hyperdrive—" His sentence cut off abruptly as he saw me raise my hand.

"My mission does not require it to function properly," I said. I could sense the hesitation in his mind; it made no sense that I would want to be stranded in space aboard a shuttle full of potentially dangerous individuals. "You do not need to understand, Lieutenant," I added.

Garr's curiosity was not satisfied, and for a moment I wondered if he intended to push things. He could not understand why I would prefer to remain aboard the damaged shuttle when I had the authority to take command of the _Halberd_ itself to complete my mission. After several seconds he wisely decided not to pursue the subject further. "Yes, sir."

I nodded to dismiss him, and he went off to join his men. With the work underway and the crew demonstrating acceptable progress, I stepped back down the ramp. Perhaps I would have the time to at least wash away the sweat and dirt that had accumulated on my face over the past several days. Negol was standing near the hangar entrance conferring with the extremely tall officer. I set of towards them at a fast pace, but found myself stopping abruptly after only a few meters.

Something aboard the shuttle was wrong. I could not decipher exactly what was amiss, but I had an indisputable sensation that a problem was about to occur. Turning abruptly, strode back to the shuttle as quickly as I could while maintaining a dignified gait.

I heard the scream as I reached the bottom of the ramp. As I entered the cabin it became apparent what had happened. A young woman, her hopes buoyed by my absence, had grabbed a hydrospanner from an enlisted technician's utility belt and jammed it through the man's thigh.

"I was quite clear," I said, my voice forceful. She was young, barely out of her teens. I glared at her, the mask of anger playing across my face hidden by my expressionless helmet. For several seconds she returned my stare, her eyes a mix of fear and courage.

"Your words mean nothing to me," she said. She spat at me, but from her position only managed to reach my thigh. Whether this woman was an ally or an enemy mattered little to me at that moment. I could not accept such an act of disobedience in front of First Order troops. More importantly, she had also challenged me personally, albeit in her own almost inconsequential way, and I could feel the anger building within, yearning for a release.

"The distinction between bravery and foolishness is determined by the outcome of the action," I said, my voice frigid even through the voice synthesizer.

"Any action that opposes you is just and right," she replied.

A further wave of fury ran through me as I reached for my light saber. "There is nothing you have that I cannot take away," I spat, "Nothing you are that I cannot end." Without further warning, ignited the lighsaber and swiftly sliced through her forearm halfway between her elbow and her hand that had held the hydrospanner.

She screamed piercingly, the pain of losing her limb overwhelming her nervous system. Tears began falling uncontrollably as she instinctively pulled the severed stump tightly against her chest. Blood spread swiftly across her white blouse.

I looked at the others. "If there are any further issues, she dies." I turned to Lieutenant Garr, noticing the nauseous look on the man's face. Apparently the engineer was not as accustomed to dismemberment as I.

"Should I dress her wound?" the young Lieutenant asked.

"If she is strong, she will survive," I said. She had curled herself into a ball around what remained of her limb, continuing to sob uncontrollably as the pain refused to subside. She was fortunate: a clean cut with a lightsaber cauterizes the majority of blood vessels and arteries as it moves through flesh and bone. Actual blood loss is thus far less than similar injuries inflicted with other, less refined weapons.

Despite the limited loss of blood, infection still posed substantial risk. If the _Emancipator_ arrived as expected its medical unit would have plenty of time to address any infection.

And if I was incorrect, it would be an inconsequential loss due to her own foolish actions. For a moment I surveyed the cabin, savoring the condemnation and loathing radiating through it.

I returned my gaze to Garr. "You may continue your work."

A/N: Wow! Thank you so much for the favorites, follows, and reviews. Fern—thanks yet again for the continued, awesome support! I am so glad you are enjoying the story! Queen Chalybeous and Land of Parchment and Ink—thank you so much for the incredibly meaningful reviews; I am so glad both of you took the time to pass along your thoughts, and sincerely and truly appreciate the positive feedback. I hope you continue to enjoy!

I write because I enjoy it, because it is a change from everyday life, and admittedly because I'm a long time Star Wars nerd! But when I get such incredible feedback it really inspires me to work hard and try and make something special!

Thanks again to everyone!


	12. Chapter 11

Negol and Garr stood stiffly at the bottom of the ramp, their minds racked with confusion. They seemed to have settled on a consensus that I was laying a trap of some sort, but they failed to determine any specifics. Given the events of the past hour they knew attempting satiate their curiosity would be dangerous and wisely let the topic drop.

I looked at both of them. "Your assistance will be remembered," I said. "It is imperative that you continue with your mission as planned and do not discuss our encounter." It was more than just a theatrical statement intended to heighten the appearance of a secret mission: Negol's survival depended on his superiors not learning he had rendered assistance to the most prominent defector in the Galaxy. Admittedly, I would have no remorse for him if he failed to heed my warning: if he ignored my instructions he deserved the gruesome fate that awaited.

Major Negol came to attention. "I understand sir, and will so inform my crew."

I turned and walked up the ramp. I fought the urge to look backwards; this would be the last time Kylo Ren, loyal and feared servant of Supreme Leader Snoke departed a First Order vessel. It was the final scene in a momentous chapter of my life, and it was with a twinge of nostalgia I touched the controls to close it behind me.

I walked slowly through the cabin, surveying the still-bound people on my ship. My gaze was met with disgust and antipathy. The young woman whose hand I had removed sobbed quietly, continuing to hold her truncated arm tightly against her chest.

For a moment I looked at her, the pain still dancing across her face and through her mind. Then, without giving her situation further consideration I proceeded towards Dameron. He had worked himself into a slightly more comfortable position but was still where I had left him. Slowly I removed my saber from my belt and ignited it, generating considerable concern amongst those in the cabin. Twisting the weapon so the blade pointed away from Dameron, I presented him with one of crossblades. Recognizing my intent, he carefully sliced the cable around his wrists.

"You may assist the others," I said, shutting down the lightsaber and walking to the cockpit. The ship was already in motion; the _Halberd's_ tractor beam had pushed us clear of the docking bay and was slowly guiding the shuttle to a safe distance. Unlike the loathing festering in the cabin, I sensed only sorrow from Leia.

"You did not have to do that," she said softly.

I sat next to her, and began undoing her restraints. I took a moment to study her hands, noticing the lines formed not only by advancing age but also from decades of toil and worry. Years before she had used those hands to embrace her Son, now they were merely a reminder of a time that I could not return to, a life I had left behind to pursue a greater destiny.

"I had no choice. My Officers—the Officers expected a strong response."

"Those men would have done whatever you told them," Leia said. "Sandria is a victim of your anger, not some effort to save the rest of us."

"And she should be grateful she only lost a hand," I growled, realizing my heated response had unwittingly confirmed Leia's statement. Still, far from being ashamed at the lack of control, I felt relieved. Despite the ongoing influence of Leia's presence my mind was still clear and able to embrace the darkness without remorse.

Outside the windshield the _Halberd_ began to accelerate, and moments later the heavily armed freighter made the jump to hyperspace. I watched as the vessel disappeared from view, taking a part of my life with it.

I turned away from the windshield to see Dameron entering the cockpit, his restraints removed. "I feel like that could have gone better," he said, glaring at me.

"The vessel was repaired as needed," I said simply.

"At a fairly steep cost. They were never going to like this situation, but you did not exactly help things."

I really did not care. "They are alive because of me. Whatever their misgivings, remind them of _that_." I spat out the last word.

"Please," Leia interjected, "I'll talk with them. I know how difficult this is." She left the cockpit, closing the door behind her.

Dameron was still angry, but his expression softened slightly. "If they listen to anyone, it will be her."

"I really have very little interest in what they believe," I said.

"You really don't get this, do you?" Dameron replied. "General Organa is our leader, not our dictator. The other Resistance leaders will want to string you up, and she is trying to give them reasons not to. Meanwhile, you're going around terrorizing everyone and chopping off body parts."

"You seem surprisingly eager to help me gain acceptance amongst your people."

"Don't confuse tolerance for acceptance," he shot back quickly. "I don't think you get how this defection thing works: we start off all wanting you in jail, or dead." He shrugged. "Or first one, then the other. You do things to gain our trust in an attempt to change that."

I turned to look out the windshield again. The future was always murky, a haze few had learned to penetrate. On occasion I could grasp some intuition form it, a clue as to what path to follow, but such information came only when the Force willed it. My future with the Resistance was a mystery; but for the moment there was no other choice. No acceptable choice, at least.

Slowly I removed my helmet, noticing the air smelled considerably better than it had previously. Obviously the new filtration system was working. "Whatever mask I wear will not change who I am in their eyes," I said. Sentient beings are fueled by anger, no matter how they attempt to suppress it. For all their talk of morality and peace, many in the Resistance would see my death or imprisonment as the only viable way to make me atone for my alleged sins. Whatever assistance I gave them would pale in comparison to the destruction I had caused.

"They know what you are," Dameron replied, "not who you are. Leia has kept your history secret from those without a reason to know."

"Leia is quite talented at keeping secrets from those she claims are important to her," I said. She certainly had failed to disclose certain important aspects of our family to me.

Dameron nodded. "I only found out your true identify after our first encounter."

"My former identity," I corrected.

"You really aren't helping yourself."

"And you have an impressive desire to irritate a man who could instantly end your existence in a dozen different ways."

"You didn't kill me on the _Finalizer_ , even after I gave you what you needed. And now you need me."

"I need you?" I said incredulously. "That is quite a presumption."

"I am loyal to the General, and so long as she believes you can help us…" He trailed off for a moment, swallowing as if the thoughts he were having were unpalatable. "I will try to help. I doubt you have many people in the universe who would say the same."

I shook my head. "I have no need for such relationships."

"Really… what a surprise from someone so warm and caring." I began to wonder if there ever was an end to Dameron's inane sarcasm. "Look, I'm not saying we're friends Kylo, not anything close… I'm not opposed to seeing a blaster bolt go through your chest, but as long as the General believes in you I'm going to try and keep that from happening."

"I neither require nor desire your protection," I replied.

Dameron shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. But for right now, we are stuck with each other." He looked over at me. "Do you play Saabac?" Dameron asked unexpectedly. "Seems like we have some time to kill."

I looked over at him with a bemused expression. "Do you regularly play card games with people who can read your mind?"

"I'm trusting you with a lot more than not cheating at cards," he pointed out.

In actuality, I was quite good at Saabac. Or at least I had been. Han Solo had referred to the game as a 'life skill' and I had been taught to play while still quite young. Which was precisely the reason why I did not savor the idea of playing: like many of the recreational diversions Solo had introduced to me, Saabac had been buried in my past. I knew my collaboration the Leia was going to bring up memories I had struggled to shed; I did not see the need to raise additional ones unnecessarily.

"I have moved onto games that are far more intriguing," I replied.

Dameron starred at me in silence for several seconds, apparently trying to decipher my meaning. Unable to do so he returned his attention to the partially functional ship, scanning for the _Emancipator_ and the safety it would bring.

A few minutes later, Leia returned. "What did you say?" Dameron asked.

"I needed their trust. So I told them the truth." Her voice was soft and quiet, her stress evident on her face and in the Force. "I told them about my son."

* * *

A/N: Thank you again for to everyone who has read, followed, and reviewed. Hope you enjoyed a bit more of what I have come to think of as the Kylo and Poe show. Poe Dameron just seems like the kind of guy who would enjoy needling Kylo, and the contrast between them is fun to explore.

Of course, there is a lot more going on here and I think the next chapter is a really special one! Chapter 12 will be the first time Kylo and Leia discuss Han Solo's death, so I am really excited about getting all your thoughts on that. It is an important discussion, so I am spending quite a bit of time on it, but it should be ready fairly soon.

Until then, thank you again for all your support and if you have the time it is always great to get your feedback!


	13. Chapter 12

The soft, fluid lines of a Mon Calamari Star Cruiser were a sharp contrast to the abrupt angles and hard edges of virtually every other warship in the Galaxy. The bizarre aquatic aliens apparently believed they could make up for their own hideous appearance by being artful in other aspects of their society, but the result lacked the fear-inspiring appearance that characterized other large combat vessels.

In addition, the _Emancipator_ herself was over three decades old, built at the height of the Empire as a counter to the might _Imperial_ Star Destroyers. It was old, obsolete, and even its hull showed signs of age and neglect.

To most of the people on the shuttle, it was the most beautiful thing they had seen in a long time.

The massive cruiser was slowly maneuvering so that it could take us aboard via tractor-beam, and Leia was discussing her plan once again. "We'll stay aboard until everyone disembarks. That way we can speak with Captain Ankira in private."

"I presume my belongings will be searched?" I asked, knowing the answer.

"Everything on the shuttle," she confirmed. "It is procedure."

I assumed there would be many procedures I would find unsatisfactory. However, at the moment, I had one more pressing concern. I opened the crew cargo compartment at the rear of the cockpit, a small storage bay intended for the personal baggage of the pilots. I carefully removed a silver box, just under half a meter cubed. I ran a gloved finger across the top to remove a speck of dust that had somehow made it through the shuttle's filtration system. I paused for several seconds, my eyes focused on the single item I had retrieved from my quarters prior to leaving the _Finalizer_.

The box's lock was coded to my biometrics, requiring both DNA and a thumbprint to open. "They won't be able to open it without destroying it," I said quietly, "but I'd prefer the contents survive." I locked eyes with her. "It poses no threat to you or your people."

Leia nodded. She could sense its importance to me, and my reluctance to entrust its safety to anyone else. She seemed unaware of the box's actual contents, but it was rudimentary Force skills provided her with some inkling. "I will safeguard it for now, but when the time is right you will tell me what it is."

"When the time is right," I repeated, having a hard time envisioning when that would be.

With a jolt, the _Emancipator's_ tractor beam began pulling us into the cavernous hangar. Once again, I wondered about the wisdom of going to Leia. Until this point, I still had an out: kill everyone and leave. Fighting my way off a hostile capital ship would be far more challenging than I cared to admit. Of course, it was not without precedent, I thought, glancing at Dameron.

We entered the hangar, and I could see the _Millennium Falcon_ situated on another pad. Dameron commanded the shuttle to transition to its landing configuration, the long wings barely clearing the top of the landing bay. The vessel settled against the deck noticeably harder than it had aboard the _Halberd_ ; either the old tractor beam emitter was having difficulty, or the operator lacked the skill and precision of a First Order officer.

It took more than ten minutes for the nervous, fatigued passengers to clear the shuttle. It was several more minutes before Captain Anakara and a staff officer entered the cockpit, suggesting they had taken some time to speak with the others. I wondered exactly what had been said, but restrained myself from probing into Ankira's mind. Dameron's point about trust was nauseating, but valid. The fact a half dozen troops had come aboard with Ankira and were waiting just outside the cockpit provided a sufficient hint as to what he had been told.

Captain Ankira was a bald, middle aged man of average height and slender build. "I am glad we were able to find you looking so well, General Organa. Welcome aboard the _Emancipator_." His words may have been kind, but it was obvious from his expression he was unhappy with the situation.

"I am glad as well, Captain," Leia said quietly.

"I understand you brought a prisoner aboard," Ankira said abruptly before Leia had a chance to continue. His eyes turned to me. His expression was dour, but still only hinted at the fury deep beneath the surface. "The infamous Kylo Ren. I must confess I did not expect you to be captured alive."

"He's here of his own free will," Leia interjected, "as a defector, not a prisoner."

Ankira's face hardened even more. "He is responsible for the deaths of _billions_ ," the captain said, letting the last word hang in the air for a second. "As I understand it, he has even caused grievous injuries to one of our people while in your custody."

"Not entirely without reason," Leia protested. "It is tragic, I'll grant you; but we encountered a First Order vessel and it was necessary for him to live up to his reputation."

I found it interesting Leia would resort to the argument she had earlier dismissed. It was not particularly convincing now either. "Is that the logic of a General, or of a mother?" Ankira asked.

"They are not mutually exclusive," Leia said defensively.

"You have not even disarmed him," the Captain spat, nodding towards my lightsaber.

"It has not been necessary," Leia retorted.

"There is a crippled young woman who would beg to differ," he countered. He looked me straight in the eyes, his animosity for me eclipsing his fear enough to let him stare me down. "Kylo Ren, I will make this quite clear since the General has neglected to do so. You are under arrest for crimes against the beings of this Galaxy too numerous to recount. You will surrender your weapon, and my men will escort you to a holding cell."

"I will agree to have him surrender his weapon, but he will be kept under guard in guest accommodations, not-"

"General, this is my ship," Ankira said pointedly. "As its commander, _I_ am responsible for ensuring the safety of all onboard. That is a duty that I do not take lightly. That creature is a threat to everyone aboard, and I will take appropriate precautions with it so long as I am in command."

"And I can remove you from that command," Leia said firmly, her voice icy.

"Yes, you can. But do you want to open your judgment to question more than you already have?"

Leia was frustrated, but carefully controlled her emotions, working tirelessly to keep any anger at bay. I would have executed a subordinate for speaking to me like that, but she carefully considered his words and decided he had a point. "Give me some time alone with him. Then he will go with your men," she said.

Ankira nodded, and with some reluctance walked to the passenger compartment followed by his assistant.

"You too, Poe," Leia said, waiting until he had left before turning back to me. "I'm sorry Ben." She reached out and laid her hand on top of my gloved one. "I need them to trust my leadership. If they think my judgment is compromised now…"

She left the rest of the statement unsaid, but it was not hard to understand. She felt events could transpire where it would take every bit of her influence to keep me alive; it was not worth making short term accommodations a point of contention. I certainly would not have had such a concern for her comfort had she come to me.

Still, it was an opportunity to make a point. "You insist on the value of love and compassion, yet when it comes time to demonstrate it you take the path of least resistance in order to protect your position." I looked at her, noting the sadness in her eyes. This was not easy for her. "His caution is understandable. I am dangerous. It is a logical, prudent decision. But so are the choices I have made."

Leia ignored my statement on her hypocrisy. "They are apprehensive, and I must respect that." She paused. "It still pains me to treat my own son as a prisoner."

"Then do not think of me as your son," I said simply. I was not the same man, no matter how stubbornly she clung to her hope.

"You know I can't do that," she said quietly. She closed her eyes for several seconds. Believing I was her son in some way was one of the few things that kept her going. "I'm going to need the lightsaber." She reached out with her right hand, waiting for me to hand it to her.

I unclipped it from my belt, and inhaled sharply as an influx of emotion raged through me. A tempest of anger, pain, suffering, and angst ravaged my mind, and for the briefest of moments I was not in control.

Leia took an involuntary step backwards, her senses overwhelmed by the strange tapestry of feelings and thoughts flowing through the Force with excruciating intensity. Her eyes looked at me questioningly. She'd anticipated my reluctance, and perhaps anger, when she requested my weapon. She was unprepared for this.

It was not the first time I had thought back to that day on the catwalk; far from it. I took satisfaction in the accomplishment I felt as the crimson blade plunged through his body; it was a source of pride, a source of strength. It was the final moment in the life of Ben Solo, a non-entity who would recede into nothing as Kylo Ren pursued his true destiny. But there was more.

There were other parts of the memory I had tried to suppress, but as I looked at my mother's outstretched hand they came flooding into my mind. His pleading eyes, looking at me with longing, wanting nothing more than to have his Son back. The final touch, as he reached out one last time in the only embrace he could manage in his weakened state. It was too late, but there was something-

My eyes were moist, the unrelenting emotions presenting a challenge I had not anticipated. Leia looked at me with a mixture of concern and confusion.

"Ben…" She said softly.

I closed my eyes. I did not want to explain—I could not explain-but I could not hide it. "This is how he died," I whispered.

Leia went pale.

"It was a moment of indecision," I said slightly louder. My breathing was unsteady, but slowly I was able to push those sentimental memories from my mind. Still, I could not shake the turmoil completely. I unclipped the lightsaber from my belt, "A moment of weakness. I considered giving this to him."

"He almost brought you home."

My emotions remained a cauldron of chaos, but from my own pain I gathered strength, forcing myself back into control. I would not let this women see any weakness, sense any light. It was true Solo's death had helped ease my pain for a while, but more importantly it had helped me focus it. The feelings themselves were irrelevant, what mattered was my ambition and I what I had to accomplish. "He had to die," I said. "I could not risk his interference in my destiny."

"Your destiny is not set," Leia said, "you still have people who love you. Who want you to be free."

"Love is weakness," I said quickly, almost robotically. "It inevitably ends in heartbreak or death." My gaze locked with hers.

"It is a strength that binds the Galaxy, just like the Force itself," she countered firmly. "What you feel now is not because of love, it is because of regret."

I opened my mouth for a moment, but was unable to come up with a coherent response. It was not true; it could not be true. Frustrated by my lack of an intelligent reply, I slowly turned away from Leia, focusing instead on hiding my own uncertainty from her. "When I ignited my saber, I knew I had made the right decision," I said.

"You thought his love, his compassion would make you weak," Leia said, "Now you are not so sure."

I turned abruptly to face her again. "My resolve has only increased," I said sharply.

"But so has your suffering," Leia said gently. Her insight was quickly becoming infuriating. "You still have a choice to make, and if you make the right one I will know your father died for a purpose. One he would have been glad to give his life for."

" _He died because he interfered_ ," I yelled angrily, my blood boiling with resentment and loathing. "Perhaps if he'd shown that level of interest sooner things would have-" I abruptly stopped. I had no desire to discuss events from my childhood, or hypothetical situations.

"He made mistakes," Leia said, "we all did."

For a moment I starred at her, my eyes wide, my jaw clenched, carefully controlling my breathing to keep my fluctuating emotions in check. "The reasons we make our decisions are far more important than the decision itself," I said quietly. "There was no error in judgment, no small miscalculation. He feared me, and I knew he feared me. You both feared what I could become: it is why you hid the truth from me for so long." To Leia's surprise, I smiled. "He could have embraced it. His Son, the most powerful being in the Galaxy, the only one capable of completing the work of Darth Vader." I shook my head. "But no, to him _I_ was the mistake."

"He never stopped loving you. You know that. You could _feel_ that."

I contemplated her words for a moment. They were true, of course, but love, compassion, and empathy did not matter. Luke Skywalker had indeed been right about one thing: Do or do not. Solo had made his choices in life; choices that were rooted in fear of what I could become. Not only was he not there, he and Leia conspired to conceal what I was. I had felt the darkness ever since I was a child, but they had attempted to deny the very essence of my being. How could I ever be expected to respect him? Love is not enough, not nearly enough.

And to even be thinking these thoughts-to be analyzing the past, be analyzing _him_ —it was a waste of time, and a painful reminder that a miniscule part of what I had been still existed. Ben Solo was indeed gone, but not as forgotten as I wanted him to be.

Turning away from Leia I dropped the saber to the floor and walked to the rear of the shuttle.

"I am ready to go with you," I told the guards. I did not look back.

* * *

A/N: This has been one of the most exciting and intense chapters to write thus far. It was also one of the most difficult, and I really wanted it to feel right. Not only are emotions running high, but writing Kylo's introspection is an interesting challenge: we all know he has inner turmoil that he is unwilling to reveal, but how honest would he be about it to himself? Hopefully the balance seems right and provides you all with an enjoyable read.

By the way, some of you may note a few references to other recent developments in Star Wars Cannon.

As always, thank you so much for your continued support. Fern: I'm glad that new chapters are a bright spot in your day; your reviews are certainly a bright spot in mine! DeeCee, thank you for the support and hopefully Kylo continues to entertain with his "multifaceted-ness". And the first few chapters with Rey are in the draft stages—finding the right balance there is yet another challenge, but it is fun too! Parchment, thank you for your incredibly kind and encouraging words—I hope you enjoy!

Thank you again for the reviews, faves, and likes, and please keep reading!


	14. Chapter 13

Ankira obviously had not had the time to plan out the transfer of his new prisoner. The halls of the ship were bustling, the crew eliciting a mixture of excitement, trepidation, and aggravation. The conditions were not ideal to ascertain discrete facts from their minds, but it was evident the _Emancipator_ was badly needed elsewhere. Their allies were in combat; that much I was sure of, and the rescue mission had delayed their response. Their frustration suggested it would take a considerable amount of time to reach their friends.

I felt the deck shudder slightly as we arrived at the detention center, an indication the ship had entered hyperspace. Prior to be sent to a cell procedure dictated I be examined thoroughly. I removed my cloak and outer layer of clothing, including the thin layers of armor I wore. Fortunately the capabilities of the _Emancipator's_ scanners saved me the indignity of a truly invasive search. Nonetheless, it was degrading and unsettling to demean myself by stripping to undergarments in the presence of others-especially these Resistance scum.

The guards spoke little during the process, their fear of me obvious despite the fact I was ostensibly their prisoner. They knew better than to assume they were in control of the situation, proving themselves somewhat wiser than their commander, Captain Ankira.

My clothing, less armor, was returned once they were satisfied no weapons or other illicit items were concealedwithin it. After being given a few moments to dress, I was escorted down a long, sterile corridor. The cell I was placed in was larger than I had expected. It was a single room, with a bed, toilet, chair, and table. The chair had provisions for restraints on it, and I had a feeling that I would find myself being interrogated while secured to it before my time aboard the _Emancipator_ was over. In fact, I was surprised I was not being interrogated immediately. The thoughts of the crew suggested the ship was heading directly into combat, and I was the highest ranking First Order leader ever to be held by the Resistance.

Perhaps it had something to do with the odd feelings I had felt emanating from Ankira himself. Ankira was an enigma; his actions seemed to originate from something deeper than just his concern for his crew or his duty to the Resistance. The man wielded an unfortunate amount of power, and I would need to determine what his motivations were: either by observation, or by more invasive means.

After being left alone, I removed my gloves and boots and lay down on the bed. It had been days since I had slept, and the fatigue of recent events and exertion weighed heavily on me. I was exhausted, and reluctantly decided to risk a few hours of sleep.

I rarely slept more than four hours at a time; as a senior leader of the First Orders my responsibilities were demanding and wide ranging, so it was unusual to have extended periods to myself. Even if I had, sleep was not something I indulged in unnecessarily. Focused meditation allows one to center their mind, to better understand their purpose and their goals, and better prepare themselves for the challenges they face.

Sleep is the opposite. It is an uncontrolled state that allows the unconscious mind to generate strange manifestations. It defies reason and has no regard for order. How people view it as a pleasure rather than a simple physiological necessity is unknown to me. Sleep is the avenue through which fears materialize, through which the uncertainty comes to the surface. There is no way to counter a dream; no way to push aside anxiety, no way to contain rage, no way to even turn pain into something useful. It is simply an opportunity for the mind to experience uncontrolled terror, unmitigated sorrow, and unrelenting regret. To dream is to suffer.

I closed my eyes, and hoped that maybe, for once, I would dream of the nothingness I so desperately craved. I was not so lucky.

The sound of surf crashing on the rough beach was nearly deafening, drowning out the words the man was saying. He was only a few meters from the boy, his wife by his side, but they may have well been separated by continents. The boy was independent, unwilling to heed what he assumed was a warning and would have contemptuously ignored his father even if he had heard him.

Walking along the shore, the boy enjoyed feeling the cool water rush past his feet, causing the coarse sand to surge around his ankles. If he stood in one spot to long, it would accumulate in a mound around his feet. He moved swiftly to avoid this, stepping lightly across the bright white beach.

A lance of pain went through his right foot, and for a moment he started to cry out before suppressing the scream. Instead, he lifted his foot, studying the small, shelled creature that he had stepped on. It returned his gaze with emotionless, stalked eyes for a moment, and then withdrew into its shell.

The boy ground his teeth. He was suddenly oblivious to the world around him; he could no longer hear the waves nor did he notice his parents moving quickly in his direction. His mind was focused on the simple, insignificant creature that had just inflicted such agony on him. He studied it for a moment, then curiosity gave way to anger. With his right hand, he grasped down on the shell, cracking through the ceramic like material and ignoring the pain of sharp, jagged edges cutting into his skin. The soft body of the organism was sliced apart by its own shell, and then any remaining life was squeezed out by the boy's strikingly strong grip.

He opened his fist, releasing the mashed pulp of the creature to the ground, the remains covered in the dark red blood that had wept from the cuts on the boy's hand. The boy felt gentle pressure on his back, and turned to look at his father.

"Ben… are you ok?" Han Solo asked, grabbing his son's hand and examining the cuts the broken shell had left. "Why'd ya do that?" he inquired, glancing from Ben's hand to the shattered remains of the small creature, then back to the hand. He carefully removed a piece of broken shell from Ben's skin, and then tore off a piece of his own shirt and began dressing the wound.

"Why not?" the boy replied, his voice soft. The lacerations on his hand were obviously painful, and blood seeped through the makeshift bandage. Despite this the child showed no outward signs of distress.

" _You_ stepped on _him_ ," Solo said. "It didn't want to hurt you."

"And you just hurt yourself more," Leia pointed out, coming up her beside her husband and inspecting her son's hand.

"I hurt him more," the child said insistently, his voice sounding almost proud of the accomplishment. "Now he can't hurt me again."

Han's face darkened slightly, a cold chill going through him. "You can't just destroy what you don't like," he said slowly, "Galaxy doesn't work like that."

The boy kicked the remains of the sea creature back towards the surf, leaving only wet blood in the sand. "Maybe it should."

Leia kneeled in the sand "Ben," "we need to respect all living things. Even those that can hurt us, and those we do not understand."

"You've killed _people,_ " the boy pointed out.

"That's different," Han said. He thought for several seconds, trying to come up with a clear way of explaining how both Leia and he were justified in what they had done. One day he was confident his son would respect the valiant stand his parents took against the Empire, but for now the stories of what they had done made it challenging to instill a sense of right and wrong in him. "You know how your mom and Uncle Luke tell you about the Jedi?"

"Yeah."

"Well you know the Jedi a very powerful. But they only use that power when they need to," Han said.

"Who decides when that is?" the boy asked.

"Jedi spend a great deal of time studying the ways of the Force, and the ways of the Galaxy," Leia said.

"One day, when you are older, you'll have the judgment to make those decisions," Han added. "It takes a while to figure this stuff out, Jedi or not. But right now, you need to be careful. Best just to live and let live, ya know?" He gave his son a toothy grin. Inside though, he was somber.

Something was not right. He loved is son unconditionally; there was no question of that. Most of the time he was the boy he was expected to be: cheerful, positive, curious. But there were hints of shadows beneath the surface. The boy's strange tolerance for pain, his inclination towards violence; the words that seemed innocent and honest, but with a strange darkness behind them. They were all hints of something that Han Solo had come to dread.

The boy could sense this, unsure how to process the strange feelings he felt emanating from his own father. The bond he so desired simply could not form under such conditions: instead of love he felt pain. Uncertainty. Fear.

"Come on, Ben," Han said, putting his arm behind his son. "Let's get you cleaned up." Solo and the boy began walking away from the coastline with Leia immediately behind them. Suddenly, there was a brilliant flash of red as if the sky had opened up with a hideous form of lightning. It was blinding, and the entire landscaped was obscured.

As the red faded, the boy and Han Solo were gone, leaving only Leia. She was starring into the distance, her eyes fixed on something far away.

"He didn't want to hurt you."

* * *

A/N: I wanted to try something a little different this chapter; please let me know if you enjoyed the flashback.

Parchment, as always, thank you for your exceptionally kind review. It always brightens my day to hear from you! I am so glad the last chapter was to your liking!

Also, I know everyone is anxiously waiting Rey's arrival. It is a few chapters out, but it is in the works. I'll be honest, I have re-written it twice so far trying to get it right. I'm not sure if I'd call it true Reylo, but they will be exploring a very special and unique bond with each other as events unfold. I am excited about the new dynamic she will add, and hope everyone will enjoy it!

Thanks again to everyone that has taken the time to read, favorite, follow, and review!


	15. Chapter 14

A/N: I'm not sure how FanFiction will handle my most recent update, so I wanted to post a note here in case folks end up on this chapter wondering why it is one they have seen before! I have added a prologue set immediately after Kylo and Rey's encounter on Starkiller base—while working on other parts of the story the concept just came to me, and it felt like it really should be the opening to the story. There is no need to go back and read it if you've already gotten this far, though I think you will certainly enjoy it. It really captures what I've been trying to do with Kylo's monologue and I fell like it adds a bit more depth to the story. It also touches on his thoughts about Rey, which I promise will be expanded on soon.

Thanks again for all the support! This A/N will self destruct the next few updates

* * *

With no chronometer in the cell I had no way of determining how long I slept, but it felt like a sufficient amount of time. It was ironic, I thought. Having incurred the contempt of nearly every sentient being in the Galaxy I had always assumed being locked in a cell was an eventuality I would have to face. I had never considered accepting it willingly and not actively trying to escape my captor.

I was seated on the bed when I felt a presence outside of the cell, and moments later the door swung open. "Do not move," a large man in a guard's uniform commanded. I remained on the bed, amused by the man's demanding tone. "Put these on," he ordered, holding out a pair of thick handcuffs.

He obviously thought he held the power here, and I was sorely tempted to show him how mistaken his perception was. His death would be both painful and satisfying. Unfortunately, any hope I had at retribution against Snoke relied on some form of cooperation with the Resistance. I desired the idea of submitting to any sort of restraints, but I would not allow this sycophant to derail my plans.

Reluctantly I complied with his instructions, noting the design of the bands. They were adorned with several remotely actuated hypodermic needles, and I recognized the system as one the New Republic had used for dealing with particularly dangerous prisoners. It was capable of injecting a variety of quick acting chemical suppressants in the event a captive became unruly. The locking mechanism was quite complex, with multiple physical and magnetic latches. Whoever had designed the device had made it resistant to manipulation, either with the Force or any of the items found in a cell.

The New Republic viewed such sedatives as a humane alternative to devices used by the First Order. The Order, like the Empire before it, had an array of equipment intended for control and torture that induced pain through electric shock, intense heat, or excruciating injections. I had been taught to resist such devices, but it was more difficult to leverage the Force against a sedative than against pain.

Such a device was pointless when secured alone in a cell, so I surmised some form of interrogation was about to begin. I was surprised it had taken so long: the information I had was invaluable to the Resistance, and it was clear Ankira doubted I would give it to them willingly.

With the cuffs secured, the guard left. Moments later, Captain Ankira himself entered the room,

"Kylo Ren," Ankira said, taking a seat on the hard chair next to the desk, his right hand caressing the control to my cuffs.

I remained silent, instead staring at the man and searching his thoughts. There was more to this than straightforward interrogation. I could feel it. Beneath the professional exterior was a fiery rage. I canted my head to the right, trying to get the information I wanted without him noticing.

"You've brought suffering to millions to suit your own cruel march to power," he continued.

I continued to look at him wordlessly, and he returned my stare. For several seconds our eyes remained locked, the air between us tense with anger and resentment. The man was torn between his duty as an officer and something else; something else powerful and overwhelming.

"I've never had the opportunity to look into the eyes of true evil before."

"Evil is a term the used by the weak to describe those with the courage to take what is rightfully theirs," I replied.

"Lives of the innocent are not rightfully yours," Ankira replied, malice lacing his voice.

"Innocence is an illusion," I said. "Every sentient being has or will impact the Galaxy. Some of us simply have the ability to do so on a far grander scale."

"Like destroying a Star System," the captain spat. "The _Emancipator_ was enroute to the Hosnian system at the time of the First Order's attack. My crew and I were among the first to see the ghastly results of your vile actions up close." He paused for a moment, as if waiting for me to defend myself. I felt no need to do so. "The following day we left the Republic fleet and swore our Allegiance to the Resistance."

"Something you had been tempted to do sooner," I said. His anger limited his self-control, and an image of the man's past began to materialize. "You've lost something," I said, finally putting the pieces together. "Someone." I reached out my hand towards him, opening my right palm towards his face. "Who?"

Before I could search his mind for the answer, I felt one of the needles around my wrist prick my skin. My muscles grew weak, and the simple act of holding my hand out towards Ankira became fatiguing. I could still see glimpses into his thoughts, but the chemical cocktail surging through my body prevented me from forming them into a coherent narrative.

My breathing quickened slightly as my body fought to counter the sedative that was coursing through my veins. Finally, I dropped my arm, unable to gain anything else from my attempted intrusion. Despite my weakening muscles, I forced myself to remain seated upright, unwilling to look frail in this man's presence.

"I know you can see my mind," Ankira said, his voice gradually getting louder, "but can you feel my emotions? Can you feel the PAIN THAT YOU'VE CAUSED!"

"The Galaxy is cruel," I replied through heavy, slow breathing. "Suffering is the price of life." I kept my voice calm and in control, a stark contrast to his rage. My skin felt cold and clammy, as if I had a fever. It was an unsettling sensation, one that I was not expecting.

"Do you feel anything when you kill a child?" He asked, leaning towards me.

I felt my lips twitch slightly as memories flooded my mind. "They were among the first," I said. "The Padawans…. The Younglings." My expression hardened. "Thousands have died by hand. Millions by my orders." I had willingly spilled the blood of many and would not pretend to have an objection to the suffering and death of others, regardless of who they were.

"Including my family," he said solemnly. "Her name was Evestra. She was fourteen. Her sister Celest was twelve. And their mother—my wife—you killed them. You killed them all."

"Prometh II," I said, raising my eyebrows slightly. "You were there."

"You remember," he hissed.

"I do not remember you or your family," I insisted. Why would I? Thousands had died that day as the First Order wrested control of the backwater mining planet from the New Republic. But the memory was vibrant in Ankira's mind and I recognized the images from that day. After the initial bombardment I had landed with my division, eager to show the planet's inhabitants that resting the First Order was misguided. When they proved unwilling to see reason, it became necessary to take drastic steps.

"You killed them for no reason, just like everyone else in their town."

"They died as a demonstration of our resolve," I said evenly.

I felt another prick, followed by the sensation of more sedative flowing into my bloodstream. My body slumped slightly as my muscles struggled to support my weight. Dizziness pervaded my mind, and suddenly it was much harder to see what Ankira was thinking. I could still sense his emotions, but the specifics were fuzzy.

"You were there. You killed them just to frighten others. They died for no reason other than your sick quest for power."

"Their corpses burned as a warning to those that would oppose the First Order. Those that would oppose _me_."

Without warning, he lashed out with his right fist. I should have seen it coming, but with my senses dulled by the sedative Captain Ankira's punch landed squarely on the left side of my jaw, snapping my head violently backward.

The pain surged through my body, and I focused on it, using my aching to sharpen my mind. I was still weak, but suddenly my mind was clear. As Ankira's left fist raced towards my face I grabbed his wrist with the Force, holding it in place and then slowly twisting until I could hear the brittle cracking of his bones. He cried out in agony, and I felt his suffering; I reveled in it, pulling further strength from his torment.

"Pain is a remarkable thing captain," I said, holding his wrist steady. "The weak mind is scattered by it." I bit down on the inside of my cheek until a steady stream of blood began to run from the right corner of my lips. "To those of us with strength it brings resolve and focus."

"You're psychotic," he yelled.

"And you are naive." I allowed myself a slight smile. "Tell me, if you were there, why did you not die with them?"

"So I could avenge them," he said darkly. I basked in the hate and animosity that was washing over me. It was intoxicating. "So I could kill you."

"I doubt I was the one to kill them," I said calmly. "Not that I would have concerned myself with remembering their faces."

"I don't know what the General sees in you. You're the monster we all know you are."

"Would you like to join them now? I know you did not plan on death when you entered the cell. Quite the opposite, actually." I savored the metallic taste of my own blood. "You intended to seek your revenge against a man you thought was sedated and powerless. Where is the Resistance morality I've heard so much about?"

"You need to be destroyed. Whatever it takes."

I tilted my head and permitted myself a slight smile. "I respect your ambition, but I must disagree with your assertion." I twisted his arm through another half turn, severing whatever connections remained in his wrist and causing shattered remains of his ulna and radius to puncture through his skin.

"If you kill me, you give them one more reason to imprison, prosecute, and execute you," Ankira rasped, his voice strong despite his pain. "I still get what I want."

"Revenge for your daughters. A willingness to die for the love of your children. My father felt the same way." I pulled him closer, restraining his entire body with the Force. I pressed down on his throat, gradually constricting his airway. "But you will die without meaning. I can see your thoughts, Captain Ankira. You came here seeking revenge. You disabled security recording systems and instructed the crew not to disturb you."

"Irrelevant," he growled, struggling to take in enough breath to form the word.

"I am a prisoner defending himself against an obviously homicidal man," I said, enjoying the sound of the cartilage and bone surrounding his trachea beginning to give way.

His life was in my hands, and I was moments from extinguishing this inconsequential wretch from existence. But that was the easy path for him. No, I would reward this man's audacity with time to reflect upon his failures: first, his inability to protect his family, and then his futile attempt to avenge them. I released him, letting him fall imply to floor where he took in several ragged breaths.

It was a pragmatic move as well. My actions would seem merciful to those that did not understand the torment I had condemned the man to, and I fully intended to capitalize on my apparent act of kindness.

His breathing was still raspy, and several times he struggled to speak but was unable to form words in his partially crushed throat. I sat silently, letting his anger, grief, pain, and sorrow embrace me. After a few minutes the pain proved overwhelming, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

A/N: As always, thank you to everyone that has taken the time to read, favorite, review, and follow! A special thanks to DeeCee and Parchment, as well as guest reviewers, for taking the time to share your encouraging thoughts. It is always great to hear from you all!

I would also like to wish everyone here in the States an awesome Fourth of July weekend, and wish my friends up north of here a Happy Canada Day!

Thanks again!


	16. Chapter 15

I was reclined on my bed, doing my best to ignore the ragged gurgling of the unconscious Captain Ankira. Evidently his instructions to be left alone were being complied with, much to his own misfortune. Even if I had been inclined to seek help for him, I had no avenue through which to do so.

There was some commotion outside the cell, and I heard an angry female voice order someone to stand aside. "I gave explicit instructions I was to be notified before any questioning!" Leia yelled, her voice muffled and barely understandable through the thick cell door. Moments later she had it opened and continued "I have-"

Her words cut off abruptly as she saw Ankira's limp form on the floor. She was grossly unprepared for the site, and I felt the shock go through her. For a split second she thought I'd killed him, but his raspy breathing and her rudimentary Force skills quickly informed her that was not the case.

Her eyes lingered on the body for several seconds before flickering to me. For the first time since I had set foot on the moon the hope was suppressed, her psyche too overwhelmed by the site before her to cling to any emotions other than repulsion and disgust. She knew what I could do, but to actually see it—to have this broken, nearly dead man stretched out on the ground before her—rankled her mind and rocked the previously intractable belief that there was good in me.

For a moment she hesitated, her mouth quivering as if trying to figure out what to say, but no words came.

"I had no choice," I said quietly, not bothering to sit up. It was the truth: perhaps I had used more force than required, but my actions were hardly unjustified, even by the narrow moral code of the Resistance.

She ignored me and turned to yell out the open door of the cell. "I need help in here! Get a medical team up here _now_!" A pair of guards rushed in moments later, one immediately kneeling next to his fallen Captain and the other grasping his weapon and leveling it at me.

"DO NOT MOVE!" he yelled, his voice oozing with loathing. It was a superfluous command. I was comfortably situated on the bed at the moment and I had no need to concern myself what they were doing. I had no doubt that he would have pulled the trigger had Leia not been in the room. The young officer was probably under the misconception that would have done something.

"He has a pulse," the kneeling man said.

By then, two more crew members had arrived. One of them had a communication device, and was urgently relaying information to what I assumed was the medical bay. "How long has he been like this?" she asked, not quite able to hide the urgency and fear in her voice despite her efforts to appear calm.

I met the question with silence, cocking my left eyebrow slightly as I returned her stare.

"Damnit Ben, tell her," Leia said harshly. Her calm demeanor was faltering as she continued to struggle with what had occurred.

"Since he tried to kill me," I said, my voice dripping with contempt. "If you had been kind enough to provide a chronometer, I would be more specific."

Leia looked frustrated my contemptuous response, but took note of my accusation. "Tried to kill you?"

Before I could elaborate, there was more commotion as a group of people in medical uniforms walked in. They were led by a woman with long dark hair and an aged face that had the same worried lines as Leia. She was undoubtedly the vessel's chief medical officer, and she examined Ankira quickly before motioning to her assistants to load the Captain onto the gurney they had brought. As they lifted the limp body onto the cot, Ankira groaned slightly suggesting the motion had shaken him from his unconsciousness.

"What happened to him?" the doctor asked, surveying her patient.

Once again, several pairs of eyes turned to me. "His trachea has been crushed," I said calmly. "In addition, his wrist and forearm are broken."

The doctor seemed surprised at my casual discussion of his condition. "How were the injuries sustained?"

"Primarily due to his impudence and overconfidence," I replied menacingly.

Evidently it was not the answer she was looking for. Her mouth hung open slightly, struggling to grasp how someone would be so callously uncaring for another's pain. "By what means were the injuries sustained," she clarified.

"He caused them," Leia interjected. "Using the Force."

The Doctor nodded. I could tell her understanding of the Force was extremely limited. She could not comprehend how it could be used to cause such grave wounds, but she accepted that it was true. Apparently deciding I would not provide any additional information of use, she turned away. "Let's get him out of here," she said, motioning to the fallen Captain.

The medical team filed out behind the gurney, but the two guards remained as did Leia. The man who had been keeping his weapon carefully keeping his weapon trained on me reiterated his previous statement. "Do not move." I could feel the anger boiling off of him, and all it took was a cursory glance at his eyes to see his relentless desire to pull the trigger. I was sorely tempted to encourage him to do so; it would give me an excuse to put this deplorable scum in a medical bay beside his commander.

Whether she noticed the vicious glint in my eyes or sensed the tension through the Force, Leia immediately headed off any potential conflict. "Thank you Lieutenant," she said, looking at the senior of the two guards. "I need to be alone with the prisoner for a few minutes."

The young man hesitated. "It is not safe for you to be alone with him, General," he protested.

"It is not safe for _anyone_ to be with him," Leia said darkly, her disappointment in me clearly evident. "But it is my responsibility, and thus my risk to take." She looked the young officer in the eyes. "Not yours." It was clearly a dismissal.

He returned her gaze for several seconds before lowering the weapon. "We will be just down hall if you need us, General." He motioned his subordinate through the door, then followed him out of the room and closed the cell door behind him.

Leia walked slowly towards me, stopping half a meter from my bed. "I came by several hours ago to check on you; you were asleep." She paused, as if waiting for me to respond. I had nothing to add at the moment and simply returned her glare coolly. "I didn't want to bother you; I know you needed your rest."

"I am used to having my sleep interrupted," I said factually. "As I am sure are you."

"But I did not want to. When I look at you now, I see the fear, the pain, the anger—even if you don't feel it I can see it in your face. That perpetual dejection. But when you sleep you are impassive, I look at you and there is no hate or evil, no despondency or heartache, just… my Son." She closed her eyes for several seconds and inhaled gently. "I saw the face I remember."

She paused again, as if waiting for me to argue the point. I did not respond, so she continued. "And then, I come back, and…" She looked down at the floor, a tear dripping down her left cheek.

"And you see what I am," I said, finishing her statement.

"I see that you crippled an innocent man."

"Innocent?" I asked, sitting up. Seated erect on the bed my eyes were only a few inches below Leia's as she stood next to me. "I have the blood of many innocents on my hands, but your friend is hardly one of them."

"You said he tried to kill you," Leia acknowledged.

"Could you not feel his rage?" I asked.

"I knew he despised you," she replied. "But that is hardly unique amongst members of the Resistance."

"Did you know he holds me responsible for the death of his family?"

Leia lowered her gaze slightly, starting to recognize the mistake she had made. She had given into Ankira because she knew protecting me to aggressively would carry substantial political consequences that could undermine her leadership going forward. She had trusted the man to be fair, and she had made a gross misjudgment.

"Perhaps an error of that magnitude would be excusable for most," I said into her thoughts, "but you have the Force at your side. You knew something was wrong, you could feel his rage was not one borne out of hostility to an enemy but the result of a personal vendetta. Yet you did not take pause to consider what this meant." I paused for a moment, feeling her mind struggle with my words. "You allowed politics to guide you and turned your back on the Force. You did what your position demanded, not what you knew was right. Yet you have the gall to question my morality, to critique my actions?"

"I never claimed to be infallible."

"But when it comes to me—to what I am—you do. Your belief in what my path should be is irrefutable and unimpeachable. You are neither able nor willing to consider anything beyond your pitifully limited view of the cosmos."

"Did you enjoy it?" she asked bluntly.

I blinked. That was not the question I had been expecting. "I have no aversion to the suffering of others," I said.

"But did you want him to suffer?"

I did not answer. I knew she would be unsatisfied with anything I said. Enjoyment was not the term I would choose to describe it, but I did draw strength from the pain of others. I luxuriated in their suffering and acquired power and focus from their fear.

Leia was obviously displeased with my silence. "If you want me to open my mind, you need to be honest with me."

I felt my lip tremble as I considered what she had said. Even if she honestly did want to understand, I knew she was psychologically incapable of grasping my thoughts and ambitions. The influence of Skywalker had weakened her, and resistance to the truths of the Dark Side was no longer a conscious choice for her.

"You cannot comprehend it. Your mind has been too limited for too long."

"Please Ben, don't make this more difficult. I see your pain. I feel it. And it breaks my heart."

"I am the quintessential being of darkness," I said, my voice getting stronger and harsher as I spoke. I pushed myself off the bed and came to my full height. For several seconds I listened to her quickening breathing as I stared down at her. "I am all you fear, all that you hate, all that you have dedicated yourself to fight. Why would my pain cause you suffering?"

"Because you are all I have left, Ben," she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Everything I hold dear is gone. Aldeeran, Han… the Dark Side has taken much from me. I will not allow it to take my Son too."

Yet again, I could feel my resoluteness being challenged. The repugnant bile of the light burned in my chest, stronger than I had felt it in months. It was an inferno threatening to consume me from within, to destroy what I was and leave me as the weak, helpless, insignificant person I buried long ago.

She sensed it to. She could feel my confliction. "I love you Ben. There is nothing that can change that. The Darkness is not strong enough."

For a moment I starred at her, trying ineffectively to reduce obvious twitching of my facial muscles as her words assaulted my core. Abruptly I pushed Leia away from me. I turned to face the wall behind me and slammed my left fist into the bulkhead. The blow was strong enough to rip open the skin on my knuckles despite the restraints on my wrist limiting my range of movement. The bulkhead was firm and unyielding: other than the blood stain I had left it showed no sign of my attack. Frustrated by my inability to do damage I screamed and struck it again, this time with my right first. Again the rough metal surface tore at my flesh but refused to buckle itself.

Again and again I lashed out, the raw skin on my hands weeping blood as my fists impacted the wall. Ever so slightly, the metal began to deform under the weight of my assault. The pain was nourishing, and I felt the subversive influence of the light dimming. Every time my fist impacted the wall the sharp pain transmitted through my bones drove any feelings of confusion deeper.

Finally, with my mind clear, the indecision eradicated, I turned back to Leia. I was breathing heavily from the hasty exertion. I raised my right hand to my face, grabbing a piece of loose skin in my teeth and ripping it from my torn knuckles. The freshly acquired wound responded by bleeding more profusely. I turned back to Leia. She was silent, and stunned.

For several seconds the only sounds in the room were my heavy breathing and the steady drip of blood on the cold metal floor. I locked eyes with the woman who insisted she cared for me.

"I have _proven_ who I am many times. And I am not your Son," I said in a calm, quiet voice between heavy breaths. "Ben Solo is gone. He was weak, and thus shall never return."

Leia broke away, unable to keep her eyes focused on mine as their intensity overwhelmed her. She could see the fire burning within, and it scared her.

She walked to the door, never turning around. "You're wrong," she said quietly as she opened the cell door. "I'll need to be Ben's strength until he finds it in himself."

I starred after her, rage in my eyes, chest heaving, as she stepped out of the cell and closed the door. I heard it lock securely behind her, and once again I was alone.

A/N: We all know how volatile Kylo's temper can be; now Leia has seen it firsthand.

I wanted to get this chapter out quickly as I felt I owed it all the followers who got a notification this weekend only to find out I had gone back and retroactively wrote a prologue. Hopefully you enjoyed that to, but I know it is not what was expected!

As always, thank you for the support and a special thanks to Parchment and DeeCee1430 for all their kind words. A big thank you to the guest reviewers as well.

I am always amazed how many people take the time just to read my random little story, let alone take the time to comment on it, fave, or follow—every view means a great deal, and I thank you all so much for the support!


	17. Chapter 16

Once gain my isolation did not last long enough. I was reclined on the firm cot when they came into my cell. There were only two of them; it was almost insulting. Did they really think two guards were sufficient to control me? Their frightened minds soon demonstrated the truth was far less objectionable. In contrast to my initial assumption, they had accepted there was no practical way to control me short of lethal force, and had thus decided to limit the number of individuals that would be placed into potential danger.

"Kylo Ren," the tallest of the pair said, "You are to report for questioning." I recognized him as the Lieutenant that Leia had dismissed earlier. He was agitated and anxious, but valiantly attempted to hide his discomfort from both me and his subordinate.

"Questioning," I said thoughtfully. "Such a pleasing term for an interrogation."

"You will find our methods different than those you have used." The Lieutenant's tone suggested he was disappointed I would not be treated more harshly. "This way."

I complied with his instructions, his partner keeping his weapon trained on me from the moment I left the cell. The interrogation room was only a short distance away, and upon entering it the handcuffs I had been wearing were removed, replaced by restraints that could be magnetically locked to the table.

The room was brightly lit, with all furniture made of a bright white material that was nearly the same color as the walls and floor. My blood-stained hands left pronounced red marks on the table as Lieutenant adjusted my restraints. Once I was secured, he joined his partner and stood silently by the door.

"I can sense your fear," I said, not really expecting a response. "You do not really understand what I am, do you?" I let several seconds of silence lapse before continuing. "What have they told you? That I kill without remorse, that I take pleasure in the suffering of others?"

The man hesitated for a moment. "I have been told not to trust anything you say."

"What a pity."

An immense wave of relief washed through the Lieutenant's mind as the door opened. Leia stepped through first, followed by Dameron and two other officers I did not know. All four of them sat at a gleaming white table.

I locked eyes with Leia. "I see you brought company."

"I am Major Kris Parson," the man to Leia's right identified himself gruffly. "I will be conducting this questioning. You may address your remarks to me."

"I may," I replied. "For now I am addressing General Organa."

"The General is—" Parson broke off abruptly as Leia raised her hand.

"I had wanted this to be a private conversation with my Son," she said. She was working hard to keep the emotion out of her voice, but I could sense it. "Unfortunately, I do not have the luxury of waiting for you to recover."

I raised an eyebrow. "You imply I have something to recover from."

"I know that one day I will have my Son back," she said confidently. Her face hardened. "But we are headed into combat, and there is information we need. I will do what must be done to protect my people, and to protect the innocent. If that means allowing my officers need to speak to Kylo Ren, so be it."

I nodded my head slightly, taking note of her using my true name. Despite her words, it suggested some kind of acceptance, if only for a moment. "Our previous discussions were hampered by your unwillingness to move beyond immutable past events. They would have been far more illuminating if you had focused on more relevant topics."

"My Son—you—will always be a relevant topic," Leia said evenly.

I gave her a weak smile. "The Son you now are allowing to be interrogated by your officers."

"Do not cloud the issue," she replied firmly. "You wanted this, not me."

"Regardless, for all your protestations of caring and love, when the moment calls for it you allow me to be questioned like a common prisoner. I have repeatedly stated I am not your son and should not be treated as such, an undeniable truth you have been loath to accept. I cannot help but appreciate the irony. For days I have argued that all beings will cast aside their ethics when their self-interest conflicts with their so-called beliefs. And here you are, parking your selective morality as soon as your pitiful high ground becomes untenable."

"I am doing what I am to save lives, not take them," Leia said, frustration evident in her voice as she struggled to convey her logic to me. Or, perhaps, she was struggling to convince herself.

"That distinction is of no consequence. You are ignoring, reshaping, and discarding your beliefs in an effort to obtain what you need. At least _I_ have the integrity to admit my actions are unequivocally in my own interests."

"Your honesty is _so_ impressive," Dameron interjected sarcastically.

"Whatever you believe is of no consequence _to me_ ," Leia said, her voice firm but lacking the normal strength and resolve that was characteristic of her. "My actions are consistent with my principles; they cause me no misgivings."

One did not need the Force to see that was a lie. Even if she felt justified in her new approach, it caused her great pain. "Neither do mine," I said quietly. "How is Ankira, anyway?"

There were several seconds of silence before Parsons took over again, sidestepping my inflammatory inquiry. "What do you know of a First Order attack on Ultan IV."

"What do you know about it?" I countered.

"You made a commitment to provide information," Leia said, "Major Parson is a member of my intelligence staff, and you _will_ cooperate with him."

"Do not presume to dictate to me," I growled, clenching my fists. I briefly closed my eyes, fighting the urge to lash out and searching the darkness for a sense of stability. "I assume we are enroute to Ultan IV at this time. Knowing what actions the First Order has already taken will allow me to offer more useful insights."

Parsons glanced at Leia, who nodded. "The last report before we entered hyperspace," he offered, "stated two Star Destroyers had begun an orbital bombardment."

"There were no support ships?" I inquired, though I already knew the answer.

Parsons hesitated for only a moment. "No other capital ships. They had launched fighters, but they appeared to be forming a defensive screen."

"Then the battle is most likely over."

"Explain," Leia said bluntly.

"Ultan is dedicated to food production; destroying the distribution facilities, star ports, and other key production complexes would adversely impact both military operations and the civilian population. There is no need to actually take the planet."

"The First Order would not benefit from another food producing world?" Dameron asked.

"If the goal was to take the planet, the assault force would be more substantial. But it would be foolish to attempt to hold Ultan. Defending supply lines would require a substantial number of escort ships; maintaining control of the planet itself would also be challenging. Other worlds would be more viable options for the First Order's needs, but few would do as much damage to you." I glanced at Parsons, then turned back to Leia. "I'm surprised your intelligence staff failed to come to that conclusion."

"Actually," Parsons grumbled, "we are well aware of the challenges such an action would present. In the past the First Order has shown a willingness to defy conventional military wisdom." I suppressed an urge to point out that the Resistance, much like the Rebellion before it, was far more unorthodox than the First Order.

"Regardless of the First Order's plans, when a call for help comes in we move to support our allies," Leia explained. "We work out the intentions of our enemies as best we can, but our first priority is to defend our friends."

"A poor strategy," I observed.

Leia did not bat an eye. "A strong response is important in demonstrating solidarity between the Resistance and what is left of the New Republic. Even if we arrive too late to assist in the battle, our presence sends a powerful diplomatic message."

"They see that you care, but lack the capacity to accomplish anything," I said sardonically.

The fourth officer, who as of yet had not been introduced, leaned forward. "Two Star Destroyers seems like a substantial force for a hit and fade operation against an undefended planet."

"The goal is to maximize damage before having to engage any reinforcements arrive. Depending on how quickly reinforcements arrived, it is possible that civilian population centers survived with minimal damage."

Leia frowned. "I thought you said the food processing infrastructure was the target."

"The primary target. Once they were eliminated other targets of opportunity would have been considered."

"Targets of opportunity," the fourth man said in exasperation. "That is what you call innocent men and women, families, children!"

Yet again, the Resistance was so caught up in their values they focused on terminology rather than tactics. "Crippling the civilian population makes economic recovery more difficult and instills a sense of fear and vulnerability that weakens resolve."

Dameron grimaced. "I did not realize you were an economist and psychologist as well as a Master of the Dark Side."

I took the sarcastic remark in stride. "I have many talents that were unrealized under the tutelage of fools like Skywalker."

Leia looked down. "Not all of them which you should take pride in."

"Is the attack a faint for another assault?" Parsons asked.

I shook my head. "Not to my knowledge. The Ultan attack is likely the first of many against systems that had been identified as holding strategic importance but lacking in defenses. The goal is destruction, not diversion."

"What other systems?" the unnamed officer demanded.

"I am willing to assist you with the situation at hand," I said. "However, I feel that commenting on First Order plans without securing guarantees about my own future would be… unwise."

"Plans that may have changes since your departure," Parsons reminded me.

"Some undoubtedly have, but are you willing to take the chance that I have no information of value?"

Parsons frowned. "I am not discounting it… yet. But until you prove the accuracy of your intelligence, I'd suggest you not overestimate your bargaining position."

I glanced at Leia, but she sat silent and impassive. She had accepted that I would be treated as a prisoner, but it still wounded her. Her internal struggle was evident, and likely the reason she had given her subordinate the lead on my questioning.

"I require access to a proper refresher station, clean clothing from my shuttle, and the removal of these restraints."

Parsons blinked. I have a feeling my demands were considerably more reasonable than what he had anticipated. "I will consider those requests," he said.

"I said _require_ major. I will not withhold any information that may be relevant to the immediate safety of this vessel—admittedly I have a vested interest in its survival. Anything beyond that limited scope will require I be treated with the respect I am due."

"Respect you are due?" the fourth man spat. "We have not resorted to torture, which is more than you deserve." Leia winced slightly at his words, but again remained quiet.

"You would not have the stomach to inflict the pain it would take to secure information forcibly from me," I replied.

Parsons swallowed slightly, realizing the validity of my point. "I'll agree to your first two conditions following the conclusion of this discussion. I will also allow your restraints to be removed when you are secured in your cell."

"You think agreeing with every condition I propose sets a poor precedent for future negotiations," I told the Major. "However, let me remind you that I have already demonstrated what I can do when shackled and drugged; any perceived benefit of these restraints is an illusion."

"It is standard procedure for a prisoner to remain cuffed anytime they are outside of their cell," the other officer said.

"Is it standard procedure for a high-level defector to be treated as a common prisoner?" I asked.

"Your actions to this point hardly indicate a commitment to our cause," the fourth person said. I could tell he was particularly troubled by the injuries Ankira had received. I surmised the two most have known each other quite well.

"Your cuffs will be removed following this hearing, provided you cooperate," Leia said. I could sense disappointment from the three men at the table.

I nodded. "Very well." I inclined my head slightly to the left and raised my eyebrows slightly. "What else have we to discuss?"

* * *

A/N: As always, thank you for all the incredible support. When I see the number of views, follows, and faves it just blows me away. And of course, I cannot express my gratitude enough to those of you that have taken the time to review. Your words and encouragement keep this story going and are a source of inspiration for me!

This chapter was a little bit more challenging to write as I had to shift gears a bit to start laying out the groundwork for the next chunk of the story-which I am very excited about. As you may have guessed, we will be meeting some important characters upon arriving at Ultan IV!

Thanks again!


	18. Chapter 17

"We have only your word that they have withdrawn," Dameron said. "It doesn't count for much around here."

"Then why continue with this exercise?" I asked, motioning towards the seated panel; my hand came to an abrupt stop as the chain that was restraining it reached its limit. "Or do you just enjoy the irony, Commander?"

The faintest of smirks momentarily slipped across Dameron's lips. "Commander Welles and I need to know what we will face when we emerge from hyperspace if you are wrong—or lying." I let the insult pass as I was more interested in the new information I had been given. That was the fourth individual's name: Welles. The rank of commander, combined with a noticeable emotional connection to Ankira, made it likely he was second in command of the _Emancipator,_ and thus the acting captain of the vessel _._

Given the condition of Ankira, it was reasonable to assume he would hold that position for some time. Of course, the Galaxy frowns on assumptions. And Ankira's recovery was not the only way Welles' command could terminate.

"The First Order has already withdrawn," I said for the seventh time in the past thirty minutes. This was getting tedious. "You may believe what you wish, but you will not arrive in time to be these people's salvation." I let a small cruel smile form on my lips. "Perhaps you will be able to console them in their suffering."

Welles regarded me for a moment, debating if he should take issue with my callous statement or proceed with his question. Ultimately he determined addressing my insensitivity was pointless. After our brief time together he had come to realize I possessed neither remorse nor empathy. "What kind of agricultural production facilities would have been targeted?"

I glared at the man, making know effort to hide my scorn for him or disdain for his questions. Had he actually just asked if the First Order would focus on fruits or vegetables? "Do you really believe I would be involved in such trivial details?"

Dameron snorted softly, a smirk forming on his face. " _Obviously_ you are far too important to be involved with strategies or tactics."

My fingernails dug into my palms as my hands instinctively formed tight fists as a flash of anger passed through me. His impertinence continued to infuriate me. "You know nothing about what you speak of. My role was one of supreme importance, my power unlimited."

"I think you mean your arrogance," Dameron quipped.

My scowl deepened. "How much faith do you have in these handcuffs to protect you, _pilot_?"

"You had suggested you could provide us something useful," Parsons interjected, "We grow weary of your vague and nebulous answers."

"As I your asinine and ineffectual questions," I snapped, small drops of fresh blood falling from my fist as I further tightened my grasp. Without my gloves, the force of my grip drove my nails into my palms but the pain failed to pacify my anger.

Leia could feel my rage, and spoke for the first time in half an hour. "Do you know if there was any order to how civilian population centers would have been attacked?"

I exhaled slowly. Unlike the others, Leia had accepted that the _Emancipator_ would arrive too late to defend against a First Order attack. She therefore was focused on planning a relief effort, and knowing which cities had been hardest hit would allow improved planning by her staff. Not that I had any motivation to see them succeed, but at least her inquiry was not purely an exercise in futility. "The First Order uses an algorithm based on population density, defense systems, and vocation of the residents."

Welles shook his head. "Leave it to the First Order to develop a systematic program to commit genocide."

"Would your shuttle's computer have a copy of the algorithm?" Dameron asked.

"Yes," I answered succinctly. Though most commonly employed as short range craft, _Upsilon_ shuttles were capable of longer journeys and had all the tactical planning tools needed to ensure a flag officer could be productive during their travels. "You will require my assistance to retrieve it."

I doubted it would provide them anything of value. Planning tools of this nature were designed to facilitate assaults on planets with massive defense networks, billions of citizens, and complex economies. Ultan, in stark contrast, was a simple world with minimal defenses and a single, dominant industry. An attack on such a world did not need to be an intricate series of battle plans carefully leveraging the capabilities of various ships and troops. Even a single Star Destroyer held enough firepower to devastate such a world.

It was undoubtedly a waste of time. It was, however, an opportunity to return to my ship. I was unsure what condition my vessel would be in or if any belongings of mine were still aboard… but I found myself strongly desiring to visit it nonetheless. Had only a few hours with these people led to a sense of sentimentality? Or was I so disgusted by them I desired refuge in the only bastion I knew of nearby? Regardless, it was not to be.

"That will not be possible," Welles said.

Dameron looked at the other Commander quizzically. "We are talking about planning a relief mission; I know he's not exactly pleasant to work with, but-"

"Commander" Welles interrupted, raising his left hand. "Personal feelings aside, the sudden appearance of a Star Destroyer at Triaxis Base immediately after his arrival suggested some kind of tracking device," Welles said. "I will not permit that vessel to be powered up aboard this ship."

"Even if there is a tracking device, there is no guarantee it is tied to the shuttle's main power," Dameron pointed out.

"If it had its own power source, we would have detected it," Welles responded. He did have a point: a tracking device needed power, either drawn from the shuttle's systems or generated by its own miniature power core. The latter should have been easily detectable by a competent technician once the shuttles other systems were powered down

"I'm willing to take the risk," Leia said firmly.

The acting commander of the _Emancipator_ shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I'm sorry, General, but the Captain was not. He ordered all power conduits removed and the command networks disabled. If we had more time before making the jump to hyperspace I'm sure he would have ordered the ship jettisoned."

"I do not appreciate you and Captain Ankira taking such action without my consultation," Leia said, irritation evident in her voice. I looked at her, waiting to see how she would reprimand the Commander. I certainly had a preferred method of handling subordinates who exceeded their authority. I doubted her technique would be nearly as effective—or as permanent—as mine.

Leia glanced down at a display in the table. "We would not have much time to conduct an analysis anyway," she said, seeming to rationalize the insubordination. "We'll be arriving in less than twenty minutes."

Welles puckered his lips, realizing he was fortunate Leia's disappointment did not result in a more punitive response, and that he now had an opportunity to extricate himself from the awkward situation. "In that case I should report to the bridge," Welles said, coming to his feet. "With your permission, General?"

"We should all go," Leia said, standing herself. "We all have preparations to oversee."

Welles nodded. "Lieutenant Jeince, please return the prisoner to his cell," he said, stepping towards the door where the skittish young guard had been waiting patiently.

"I'd like Ben to join us," Leia said.

Despite my surprise I suppressed any reaction. Welles did nothing to conceal his. "You want the prisoner… _on the bridge?_ "

"He has information we may need." Leia looked at me, the edges of her mouth curling down into a slight frown. "Assuming you'd be willing to assist us?" she asked.

I nodded. "The people of Ultan matter little to me," I said honestly, "However, I am willing to offer them my aid in return for certain favorable considerations."

"How noble of you," Dameron said sarcastically.

"General, not only is having a prisoner in a secure area a violation of protocol, but you are talking about a man who has removed limbs of innocent people while in our custody," Parsons pleaded.

"He will not have his weapon," Leia said pointedly.

"Dismemberment is more challenging without a lightsaber," I admitted, "but still easily achievable." I watched as the three men reacted uneasily to the statement. Leia was more stoic, and simply glared disapprovingly at me.

Welles shook his head and sighed. "We should be on our way." Again, he started for the door.

"I had been told these restraints would be removed upon the completion of this questioning," I said, remaining seated.

"That was before I knew you were headed to the bridge," Parsons said.

"I do not recall our agreement being contingent on events occurring after our discussion," I reminded him, a hint of threat leaking into my voice. I tilted my head slightly. "I thought the Resistance prided itself on integrity."

"What would you know of integrity?" Welles spat.

"My actions are consistent with my beliefs," I said, gazing at Welles. "Are yours?"

"I'm willing to make exceptions in certain cases," he said.

A derisive smirk formed on my lips. "How meaningful is your word antipathy for a single being is sufficient for you to break it?"

"Except it was my word," Leia said solemnly. "In order for him to understand us, he must see the values that define us."

Welles opened his mouth to respond, but thought better of it. His commander was already unhappy about the shuttle; questioning her judgement could be a step too far. He turned back to the door. "Lieutenant Jeince, remove the prisoner's handcuffs."

The young guard moved towards me, obviously uncomfortable. With a word he held a device up against the restraints that were wrapped around my wrists. After several seconds they clicked open and re cautiously removed them, taking care to avoid touching my pale, bloodied skin.

I flexed my wrists, feeling the cartilage crack as I did so. For a moment I studied where the restraints had been. My skin was pale from years of concealment beneath gloves making the red indentations left by the cuffs quite prominent. It was a temporary and minor abrasion, inconsequential when compared to my bloodied knuckles and several other scars I carried from training. Still, I found it frustrating that my skin could so easily be bruised; it should have shown the same resilience and strength as the rest of me.

"Are we ready now?" Welles asked, working hard to hide the irritation in his voice. I could sense his seething resentment through the Force.

Leia nodded. "Lead the way, Commander." I was certain she could sense Welles's thoughts, yet she seemed to ignore it.

She followed Welles, and Dameron and I followed behind her. Parsons brought up the rear, discretely taking Jeince's sidearm as he walked past the Lieutenant.

Dameron looked up at me as we walked to the turbolift. "So what do I call you?" I looked over at the shorter man for a moment but did not answer him.

"Can I call you Kylo?" Dameron asked, continuing despite blatant hint was uninterested this topic of discussion; or, perhaps because of it. "I'm definitely getting a negative vibe when the General calls you Ben… but to be honest, Master Ren or Lord Ren or whatever it is your lackeys used to call you doesn't really work for me. Just a bit formal, you know?"

I looked over at him again, keeping a neutral expression on my face. "Kylo is acceptable," I said slowly. Dameron, unlike Leia, had no desire to deny who I was. Despite his annoying manner, I appreciated that. Of course, Dameron had never known Ben Solo, thus he had no confusion between myself and Leia's long gone child. Still, it was a start.

I followed the group onto a turbolift, and a few moments later we emerged onto the bridge. It was a hive of activity, offices and crewmen anxiously preparing for our imminent arrival. The viewports revealed the molten swirl of hyperspace. For a moment I found myself gazing intently at the light and color dancing almost hypnotically around us as the _Emancipator's_ aging Class 2 hyperdrive drove us forward.

Amidst the hustle few took note of our arrival, and it took several moments before a female Twi'lek walked up to Welles and Leia. "Commander, General, we've organized fourteen landing parties. They are finalizing the loading of supplies, but we won't know where to deploy until we arrive." Her voice was smooth and pleasant, in surprising and stark contrast to her hideous exterior.

Before Leia responded the alien turned to me, and her eyes scanned me from head to foot. The tips of her brain tails twitching slightly in some kind of gesture. I had once been taught to interpret the non-verbal communications of various species, but the need to retain such knowledge had long since passed me by. There was no need to understand subtle signals when I could simply take the information I required.

The Twi'lek whispered something in her native tongue before turning back to Leia. "I can't… it is difficult to accept he is really here."

"Commander, meet Kylo Ren," Dameron said with a sarcastic cheerfulness. "Former Lord of the First Order, or whatever he says he was."

"You were aware of my presence onboard," I observed, once again ignoring Dameron's flippant remarks. "Information travels quite freely on this vessel."

Leia frowned slightly, but Dameron spoke first. "Unless we locked up everyone on that shuttle the word was going to get out you were aboard," he explained.

"Commander Mourtanis is the second officer of the _Emancipator_ ," Leia said in an almost introductory manner. Despite the prompting, Mourtanis and I simply regarded each other coolly and silently. "He is here as an advisor on First Order tactics," Leia continued. "He believes the attack is over, so I want to focus on preparing our humanitarian response."

"General, may I respectfully remind you we have only the prisoner's word that the enemy has withdrawn," Welles said. "I'll concede he may be telling the truth—at least as he knows it," the Commander added diplomatically, "But if he is wrong… it would be advisable to be at full battle readiness."

"I appreciate your counsel, and your caution," Leia said smoothly. "Do what you feel is necessary to protect this ship, but I want any available personnel focused on preparing for a relief effort."

Welles nodded sharply. "Of course, ma'am."

"At a minimum I would like to have shuttles loaded with supplies and probable approach and landing vectors prepared." Leia turned to me. "In the absence of the First Order algorithm, what can you tell us about where the attacks would have been concentrated?"

"The goal of the attack would have been to disable the planet's food production and distribution facilities," I said.

"And after that?"

"Eliminate as many of the enemy as possible."

"You mean massacre the innocent," Mourtanis snapped.

"Those who support the enemy in any capacity are not innocent," I replied harshly.

Leia raised her hand and slowly opened her palm to signal for calm. "Where do you believe the worst civilian casualties will have occurred?"

"The largest population center that is not protected by weapons emplacements capable of reaching orbit."

"Myard City," the Twi'lek said. "I thought that might be a target, but I had hoped even the First Order wouldn't be so heartless. Thirty-thousand people and no real defenses." She glanced back at me, fire in her eyes. "It would have been a slaughter."

A/N: Thank you as always for reading. The favorites, follows, and views are all incredibly awesome—and as always an extraordinarily special thank you to those that take the time to review or PM me!

This chapter has been in the works for a while. Life doesn't like giving me time to write, and to be honest it has been a tough one. Trying to keep the tension and excitement going while transitioning to the next part of the story is not easy, and it still is not where I want it to be—but it is something!

So for those of you looking for something darker and more sinister, rest assured Kylo will deliver.

And for those looking for a Rey—VERY SOON!

Again, thank you!


	19. Chapter 18

Had Ultan IV been a more developed planet, the damage would have been more evident from orbit. When great cities burn, it is can be seen clearly by the naked eye. Small towns, in contrast, smolder in obscurity.

The suite of sensors possessed by the _Emancipator_ was far more perceptive than the human eye, and more than sufficient to ascertain that the planet was not as tranquil as it seemed. Analysis of the destruction began scrolling across numerous screens moments after the ship emerged from hyperspace, the severity of the damage immediately apparent.

I looked at Leia, noticing her tense as she felt the dread, sorrow, and loss emanating from the planet. It was a powerful and unrelenting tide of emotion: the sadness, sorrow and suffering of an entire world. To her it was nearly overwhelming: despite being witness to decades of conflict she had not been hardened to its byproducts. It was interesting, I thought, how quickly I had gained a tolerance to death and destruction she had been unable to achieve. I had stood by during the destruction of an entire star system and had not flinched. She viewed that as a weakness, but in a Galaxy full of bloodshed it was an incontrovertible strength.

Shaking aside her discomfort, Leia conversed with Welles hurriedly and I overheard the orders to man the first relief shuttles. Several officers began coordinating with their counterparts on other vessels that had already arrived, working to direct a relief effort that was already underway but in utter chaos.

The holographic tactical display explained the confusion. The _Emancipator's_ sister ship, _Alliance_ was already in the system, along with another vessel that I recognized as a New Republic Heavy Cruiser. Two other vessels were present, their design suggesting a Corellian origin. Lacking any command unity, the leaders of the respective vessels had undoubtedly begun well intended, but utterly disjointed, relief efforts.

"The _Alliance_ and the _Resolute_ have both forwarded the information they have, both about the battle and the damage," Parsons said, looking up from his station. "It looks like he was right. Myard City is one of three population centers that were nearly leveled."

"What is the status of our relief crews?" Leia asked, turning to Dameron.

"Six shuttles ready to launch on your command," he replied. "We pulled everything we had on Myard for the team leaders to review, so they should be ready to go."

Leia nodded. "Launch, and have them return as soon as possible." She turned to Welles. "Inform the other ships our shuttles are enroute; they can let anyone they have on the surface know to expect them."

"Understood," Welles said, relaying the instruction to a communication officer. He turned back to his commander. "The Corellian Defense vessels have acknowledged our communications, but they aren't very talkative."

"At least they are here," Dameron pointed out. "They rarely support anyone outside their borders."

"They realize mutual support is in their best interest," Parsons noted. "With the losses in the Hosnian system they can't count on what is left of the New Republic fleet, so they need as many friends as they can get."

"Corellians can be challenging," Leia said, the hint of a smile appearing on her lips and vanishing just as quickly as her eyes moved to me. I could feel her sadness as happy memories were suddenly split apart by harsh reality. She pushed the feeling aside quickly. "We'll let them help in their own way."

"Will you be going to the surface, General?" Welles asked.

"I will go down with the next wave," she said. She looked back at me. "I would like you to accompany me to the surface."

I cocked an eyebrow. "I hardly think my presence would be desired by the people of this planet."

"Since when have you been motivated by the desires of others," Leia said smugly. Her point, though valid, did little other than fuel my disdain for her.

"He's not wrong," Welles said. "Some—if not all—of the people on the relief shuttles know he's on the _Emancipator_. They are not going to keep that to themselves. He will not be received well."

"And it isn't too hard to figure out who he is; the tall guy with a perpetual scowl is gonna stand out amongst the rescue teams," Dameron interjected. I gave him an unpleasant glance but remained silent. "And if that doesn't give him away, his charming personality sure will," Dameron added.

"His skills will be useful," Leia said to the officers. She turned back to me. "More importantly, I want you to see the results of a First Order attack."

I frowned at her. "I have seen the flames of burning cities an walked through the charred remains of their inhabitants. There is nothing on this planet I will find unsettling, nor that will make me regret the actions I have taken."

"But you haven't seen what comes next," Leia replied, her voice firm and unyielding. "How from the sadness comes strength, hope, and resolve. You have not seen what these people can accomplish; How the worst catastrophe one can experience can bring out the best of who they are. "

I shook my head. "Demonstrating solidarity in the face of tragedy is a product of necessity, not something to be idolized or respected. When the weak are unable to meet their own physiological and psychological needs they seek the support of others."

"It is a reminder of what binds us."

"It is what they must do to survive, nothing more."

Leia smiled slightly. "I suppose we shall see."

It was pointless to waste effort attempting to contradict her. One day she might come to realize how the universe worked, how each of us is driven by our own purposes and survival. But that day was far off.

"If you truly desire my assistance, I shall require certain belongings of mine," I said, a not so cryptic suggestion that my lightsaber would be of use. It was not only an effective weapon, but also an elegant cutting device suitable for more mundane tasks. Still, I doubted any of them would acquiesce to the suggestion.

Leia shook her head. "It would be more appropriate to use the same equipment as the other relief workers," Leia replied. "A lightsaber could cause anxiety." I glanced at her, sensing her refusal had more to do with a concern about my ability to control my anger than a fear the saber would be poorly received by the populace. After all, my presence alone was bound to induce apprehension.

"We should get moving," Leia said, ignoring my contemptuous glare. "The second wave will be ready to launch in just over thirty minutes." She turned to Welles. "Please notify the flightmaster in Bay Six that myself and a guest will joining the relief crews shortly." The subterfuge seems wholly unnecessary: as Commander Welles had just pointed out, my presence was hardly unknown aboard the _Emancipator_. There would be no doubt as to who Leia's guest was.

"Also," Leia continued, "Have the pilot's locker room adjacent to the hangar cleared, and bring the clothing we removed from the First Order shuttle there." Welles again acknowledged the instruction, showing only a hint of hesitation before complying. As Welles stepped away, Leia's attention focused on me. "We do not have much time, but I assume you would like a visit to a refresher and clean clothes."

I was silent for a moment, carefully considering my words to ensure my response could not be interpreted as enthusiastic or appreciative. "It would be suitable," I said quietly.

Leia motioned for me to follow her, but I brushed past her at a brisk walk and she fell into step behind me. I was familiar with the layout of an MC80 cruiser; her guidance was neither desired no required. Hangar six was located two hundred meters aft of bridge and only a single deck below it, and the pilots' locker room's main entry was immediately before it.

Leia had struggled to comfortably keep up with my longer stride, and the distance between us meant the short journey had occurred in welcome silence. Leia wasted no time in breaking it upon catching up to me.

"I see you haven't forgotten your way around a Star Cruiser," she casually observed.

"Understanding the intricacies of enemy vessels can provide a tactical advantage," I agreed darkly. The child that had once walked the corridors of Mon Calamari warships with her was long gone; the warrior who had led boarding parties aboard such vessels to slaughter his enemies stood beside her now.

Leia clenched her teeth for a moment, frustrated at another failed attempt to remind me of an irrelevant past. "Some of your belongings should be inside."

I entered the cool, damp room to find a crate of clothing had been placed just inside the door. It was rumpled and haphazardly arranged, a clear indication of the thorough inspection the Resistance had given my personal belongings. I selected several items identical to those I currently wore along with a fresh pair of gloves and placed them on a metal bench before disrobing.

The facility was equipped with both a sonic and conventional shower; having gone days with minimal rest the rejuvenating nature of the water-based shower was far more appealing.

Dirt and blood accumulated at my feet as the warm water flowed over me, following counters that had been sculpted by years of training and crossing scars that were reminders of battles past. I closed my eyes and raised my head, letting the liquid run across my face and through my hair.

The heat of the water contrasted sharply with the cool air of the room, and I found myself turning slowly in an effort to let the warmth spread evenly across my body. For a moment I felt a rare sensation of pleasure, the shower proving both calming and invigorating. But my mind had not time for contentment, and as soon as I began to relax I found my thoughts pulled back towards the current situation.

The contentment vanished, the burning angst within returned, and I abruptly shut off the water. I dressed quickly and proceeded to the door.

Leia was waiting outside patiently, the smallest of smiles gracing her lips as I emerged. "I'd forgotten the way your hair curls when it's wet."

I frowned again, frustrated by her insistence on drawing parallels between the man I am and the insignificant, naïve child I had been. Even something as trivial as her noting the peculiarities of my hair was a sickening reminder of the role she had once played in my life.

It was also a subtle prompt that despite my efforts to destroy everything I once had been, some characteristics persisted.

The reception in the hangar bay was just as cold as I had expected. Around thirty crew members were already in the bay, each carrying a heavy load of gear. Their conversions dropped to whispers as Leia and I entered the room, and one did not need an attenuation to the Force to sense the increase in tension.

Several acknowledge the General, but few were willing to look at me, much less risk the inquietude of eye contact. I was quite satisfied with that: I had no interest in them, and cared little what they thought of me. In typical fashion, however, Leia felt compelled to address the unease that had fallen on the room.

She motioned for the eclectic group to gather around us. Most were human, a mixture of males and females clad in a variety of uniforms. A pair of Twi'leks, an Ithorian, and a comically diminutive Chadra-Fan rounded out the group. Reluctantly they approached, forming some semblance of a semi-circle around us.

"You have all given too much in the fight against the First Order for wounds to heal overnight," Leia said, her voice clear and strong. "The sacrifices you've all made… the pain you've endured… Forgiveness will never be easy; it may not even be possible."

"This man comes to us of his own free will," she continued, her partially accurate statement seeming to prompt some skeptical murmurs. "While his past may be one of terror, his willingness to assist us brings me hope. His knowledge and skills can be put to immediate use for the preservation of life. In the interest of helping those who have been victimized by this terrible First Order attack, I humbly request you allow him to work with you."

She motioned to me, and I tried to avoid letting my contempt for her become visible to the assembled masses. I did not like being discussed by others, particularly when I was being treated as a spoil of war. "I know there have been challenges, and there will be others," she continued. "I understand that trust is not created easily, and your reservations about his presence here are well taken. I will not ask you to condone his actions, nor will I deny that some form of penance will be due for them. But there will be time for that later, for now we must come together with everything we have to help those in the greatest need."

A few members of the crowd seemed pacified by her words, others simply bottled there resentment for another time. Several seemed poised to offer their own opinions, most likely in opposition to Leia's, but the meeting was cut short by the arrival of shuttles.

Two hideous old craft slowly entered the docking bay, awkwardly lumbering towards their respective landing pads. As the loading process began, Leia leaned over to me. "Please try to get along with these people," she said softly.

The cumbersome shuttles were loud and uncomfortable inside, and the atmospheric entry was surprisingly violent. Bright orange plasma roiled outside the small windows, gradually tapering away to be replaced with a rich blue sky.

As the shuttle began its final descent I detected a presence I had not felt in some time. A sensation of someone in the force, strong and focused yet unpracticed, innocent, and naïve. The girl who had caused me such trouble.

The scavenger who's persistent meddling had disrupted my destiny.

A/N: I know many of you have been waiting a long time for what is coming!

As always, I can't help but be blown away by all the support. Follows, Views, Favorites, and especially Reviews all make my day, and I am immensely grateful to all of you!

A special thanks to Land of Parchment, DeeCee1430, HogwartsIsOurHome, Sltherin Studios, Demigodzzz, LadyLionhart, and guest reviewers for taking the time to share your incredibly kind words. It is great to hear from you all!

More excitement to come!


	20. Chapter 19

To my surprise, and perhaps chagrin, I found myself not dreading a possible meeting. I certainly had the right to despise the girl. Even now the challenges I faced were a direct result of her interference. My feelings, however, were far more nuanced.

Perhaps there was a physical attraction; after all, it had been years since I had indulged in any sort of pleasures of the flesh. It was not for lack of opportunity: power and prestige attract certain women, particularly those with high level ties to the political establishment. Furthermore, though not openly discussed, the First Order holds no ill will to those of sufficient privilege simply taking what they want from whomever they please. Despite this, I never found myself willing to engage in such activity. Not only were such relations a distraction, even recreational intimacy could be an intrusion into personal affairs that I preferred remain shrouded in secrecy.

I doubted my predilection for solitude had changed so quickly, so it seemed more likely it was her raw power that invited my attention. Power in itself was seductive, and her strength within the Force was impressive. Her lack of training did not diminish her raw potential: she had proven a worthy adversary with a blade, as well as with her mind.

The strange mixture of excitement and anger played through my mind. Internal confliction was not something I desired, but it was hardly new to me. Leia could sense the turmoil, but I doubted she could understand the depth of the emotions that were generating it. I wondered if she knew the girl was at the root of it; perhaps her insistence that I join her had been motivated by some desire to orchestrate a reunion.

The shuttle set down with a jolt, the firm landing leaving no doubt that we had arrived. The relief crews hurriedly disembarked, followed by several pallets of supplies. Leia and I were the last off the shuttle.

The planet was as brilliantly green on the surface as it had appeared from orbit, the lush vegetation around the landing area giving way to cultivated fields that stretched to the horizon in nearly all directions. The sun blazed, its intensity at least partly responsible for turning Ultan IV into an agricultural Mecca. I raised the hood my cloak over my head, trying to shield my skin from the powerful rays. It also helped restore a modicum of the privacy I had enjoyed beneath my helmet.

The wind blew violently out of the north, and we walked directly into it. The air was heavy with the smell of burning structures, and thick black clouds rolled by above our heads. We came to a rise high enough to offer a view of what had once been Myard City.

Nearly thirty thousand people had called the town home, living predominantly in high rise residential towers that reached thirty or forty floors above the ground. These lofty residences had become tombs, the majority of them collapsing under the unrelenting bombardment of First Order vessels. In some areas the facades of fallen structures were clearly visible, in others the orbital bombardment had reduced the buildings to unrecognizable twisted metal.

One tower, mortally wounded, but not yet collapsed, swayed noticeably in the stiff breeze. A large piece of the exterior broke loose and rained down, the sound of its impact audible even a kilometer away. The heavy black clouds, fed by ongoing fires and uplifted ash, created an overcast shadow. The darkness they cast on the former city in stark contrast to the brilliant sun of the surrounding farm land. Hundreds of people were crawling through the wreckage, desperately searching for persons and belongings that were likely gone forever.

As we approached, I saw her perched atop one of the large mounds of rubble. Her head was down, her mind scouring the debris for any hidden traces of life. Sensing those trapped beneath the wreckage was not a challenge for someone with her strength in the Force, but converting those sensations into something useful to the search teams was taxing. She lacked the training to properly focus her energies, trying to overcome her limitations with intense concentration.

Her focus on her task left her vulnerable. She was separated from her surroundings, unaware of all but the strongest external stimuli. It was a dangerous mistake, one which had more to do with the limited capacity of Luke Skywalker's teaching than her own abilities. In some ways she was more formidable before her training, when her raw emotions and primitive instincts drove her use of the Force, not the drivel of a timid Jedi Master.

The air around her was filled with an avalanche of emotion, not the least of which was fear and hate. She was consciously pushing them aside with techniques she must have learned from Skywalker. Combined with my conscious suppression of my own Force signature, my approach arrival was far less obvious to her than it otherwise would have been. Still, there was a limit to how long I could approach in anonymity. As we arrived at the edge of the rubble, perhaps fifty meters from her, she became stiff.

Slowly she turned, her face calm and impassive. She was dwarfed by the immense, smoldering heap she stood on. She appeared insignificant next to the mass that had once been a building housing hundreds, but I knew she was anything but. Her small stature and apparently frailty hid a hearty resolve, cunning mind, and substantial untapped power. This would be most interesting.

If there was any happiness or appreciation at Leia's arrival, it was buried along with her other emotions. I watched silently as she crawled towards us, lowering herself down amongst the tangled web of beams and duracrete with a practiced grace that came from years of exploring derelict spacecraft. As she came within a meter her hazel eyes fixed on me with unrelenting intensity, and I inhaled involuntarily. I could feel her mind probing her surroundings, running through the Force in search of the threat she assumed had come with me.

"Everything is alright," Leia said soothingly. She offered a gentle smile, and Rey's vision briefly flicked to her before returning to me. Rey remained impassive; I could feel her emotions but she took care to hide whatever conscious thoughts were running through her mind from me.

After several seconds I broke the silence. "You did not tell me the Scavenger would be here," I said to Leia, keeping my eyes locked on Rey.

"Her name is Rey," Leia corrected, her voice harsh.

I turned abruptly and gave her an icy look. "And my name is Kylo Ren," I hissed, "Yet you've shown no desire to use it."

"That's different," Leia said.

"How so? Ben Solo is a vestige of a past that is no longer relevant, that no longer has meaning to who I am now and what my destiny is. To use it is no less demeaning than to address her by her previous vocation, her previous life."

"If you wish to be addressed as the wretched creature you are, I am happy to oblige," Rey interjected, and impressive fire in her voice. "I would expect you to show me the same courtesy and use a name that is appropriate for me."

I raised my eyebrows slightly, impressed by the girl's tenacity, intensity, and power. Considering the amount of trouble the girl had caused me, I could think of many appropriate names more appropriate than Rey, but her strength commanded respect. Furthermore, it did not serve my purposes to fan the flames of dissonance between us.

"Why is he here?" Rey demanded, her eyes flashing to Leia than back to me. She studied my face carefully, her eyes drawn to the small scar she had created. It had been a garish wound the last she had seen it; medical attention and time had dramatically reduced its size but not its significance.

"I no longer serve Snoke," I said.

"Is that supposed to impress me?" Rey countered. "A monster does not need a master to remain a monster."

Leia cringed slightly, the animosity between two people with whom she had strong and complex emotional ties making her visibly uncomfortable. "There has been enough discord on this planet already," she offered. "Let's not add to it unnecessarily."

"Then why did you bring him?" Rey demanded. "Misery and suffering follow wherever he goes. He is the physical incarnation of everything these people are struggling to overcome." I remained still and silent; I had no need to justify my presence to her.

"He is no longer allied with the First Order. It is the start of a journey," Leia said. "He must understand evil to cast it aside."

"They are hunting him, aren't they?" Rey surmised accurately. "He is not trying to be a better person, he is using you for his own selfish needs." She looked back to me. "It takes incredible gall to seek shelter with those you have pursued mercilessly for years," she said, her voice powerful and firm. "To prey on the emotions of a woman who offered you everything, and who you have given _nothing_."

"I will not contest your assertions," I replied before Leia had a chance to interject. "We do what we must to survive, as I know you understand."

"I understand survival," Rey said sharply. I could feel her thoughts flashing back to frigid desert nights on Jakku. "You do not merely survive; you accumulate power through the death and suffering of others."

"His assistance has already saved Resistance lives," Leia said, leaving out the inconvenient details of my actions the way a good politician should.

"With or without a mask, you are still a creature of darkness."

"You do not need to fear me," I said.

"Our last encounter would suggest that perhaps you should fear me," she said.

"An encounter since which I have grown in power," I replied, taking a step closer to her. She took a reflexive step backwards to preserve the distance between us. "I must admit I too suffer from the inevitable effects of blood loss," I added, almost conversationally. "The injuries provided by your Wookie friend were not inconsequential."

"I did not realize masters of the Dark Side were so willing to make excuses," Rey remarked.

I tilted my head to the left, studying her for a moment. "Hiding your fear with brashness is not courage," I countered. Unlike other members of the resistance, who covered their fear behind a thin façade, Rey's was carefully controlled. But it was very much present.

She shook her head. "I don't have time for _you_ ," she said, "There are still people trapped."

"Yet you struggle to find them," I observed.

Rey's expression showed even more contempt. "I am doing everything I can to help them."

"Which is impressive until you fail," I replied, reflecting her own darkening demeanor in my tone. I had not intended to be confrontational, but my patience was not unlimited. "I am sure that as they draw their final breath they find comfort in the fact that you are _trying_."

"Then help her," Leia said in a soft but authoritative tone.

I remained impassive, my surprise at Leia's proposal carefully concealed beneath a well practiced veil. Rey was less experienced at hiding her reaction, and the look of astonishment on her face was plainly visible. The idea using my skills for something so trivial seemed contemptible at first, but it was also an opportunity.

I locked eyes with Rey, pushing aside any lingering resentment and anger to focus on the person before me. The girl who's immense capabilities had yet to be fully explored. "I can still teach you the ways of the Force," I said, my voice calm and smooth.

"I will not take lessons from someone capable of such atrocities," Rey answered sharply.

My lip twitched slightly as I processed her rejection. It was disappointing, but hardly unexpected. "I suppose I misunderstood your level of commitment to the victims," I said, motioning to the mountain of rubble. I hoped the urgency of the situation would lead her to reconsider.

"Master Skywalker warned me that the Dark Side would try to seduce me by preying on my kindness and compassion. I will not make such a mistake."

"If you limit yourself in such a way you waste a gift, the greatest gift the Universe can bestow. Skywalker's teachings continue to be as limiting as they are misguided." I smiled tightly; Rey seemed to find the expression quite unsettling. "You have a remarkable talent for dredging up those from my past who have attempted to infuse my life with weakness and disorder."

"It is far better than seeking the counsel of someone who has no regard for life." She glared at me, fire in her eyes. "You can excuse a child for fearing the dark; but it is a tragedy when a man becomes afraid of the light."

"The tragedy is when someone turns their back on their true potential," I said patiently, softening my tone.

For a moment she seemed to sense my authenticity, my sincere belief that she could be more than she ever imagined. But she could not accept it. Months with the Resistance and the influence of Skywalker had built up an inexorable disdain for the Dark Side in her mind. Even the split second consideration of my words set off a wave of revulsion in her mind.

"General, I need to get back to work," she said bluntly, not waiting for Leia to respond before turning away.

Leia said something to me, but it fell on deaf ears. I was focused solely on the young woman, watching her climb. For some reason I could still forgive her ignorance and blind faith. Somehow, after all the damage she had done I found myself not flooded with enmity and rage when I looked at her.

Perhaps one day I would understand.

A/N: There it is! The reunion! You knew it was going to be rocky!

Needless to say, this was interesting to write. Introducing Rey to the story is a big deal, and I felt like there was a specific mix of enmity and understanding that would occur during this encounter. Rey despises darkness, Kylo is unwilling to appear weak—so things will move slow, but they both know there is more to the other than a one-dimensional adversary.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on Rey's introduction to the story!

As always, thank you for all the continued support, faves, follows, and reviews!


	21. Chapter 20

With her refusal to accept my assistance, Leia had requested that I assist a different search team. After a brief period of contemplation, I reluctantly acquiesced. I despised using my powers to ingratiate myself with the Resistance: such groveling is for the weak who lacked the means to take what they desired without assistance from others. Perhaps what I truly detested was admitting I now had some semblance of reliance on my former enemy.

For now, coexistence required I prove a willingness to value those things they held dear: namely, innocent life. More importantly, these lives mattered to Rey, and she still had much to learn. The task ahead would give me an opportunity to demonstrate my superior skills; a demonstration of my mastery of the Force would help her understand what I could give her, to see the knowledge I could pass along that no one else could.

Team Delta Two was working three-quarters of a kilometer from Rey, and I assumed Leia had chosen it to avoid any confrontation between the Girl and myself. However, a more compelling reasons was that the team was led by one of the founding members of the Resistance, an officer with unwavering support that she knew would at least grudgingly accept my presence.

Joph Seastriker and I had met only twice, shortly before our lives had taken very different turns. The blonde X-wing pilot had left the New Republic military to join Leia after he became convinced that there was a an unknown threat building forces in the outer reaches of the Galaxy; a threat the New Republic refused to acknowledge. He had left all he had known to oppose the power that was gathering in the shadows; I had left my home to join it.

"Commander Seastriker," Leia said with a smile.

"General Organa!" Seastriker said excitedly, turning away from whoever he had been speaking with to embrace his commander and friend. "It is so good to see you."

"You to Joph," Leia said.

"I thought you were on Triaxis base?" Seastriker said.

"The First Order located the base," Leia replied.

Seastriker's eyes widened. "Is everyone OK?"

"There were some injuries during the evacuation," Leia said, yet again avoiding any negative details, "but no loss of life."

The young Commander looked visibly relieved. "That must be some kind of miracle."

"We had help," Leia said, nodding to me.

For the first time Seastriker took a moment to study me. "You look so familiar," he said. A moment later his jaw dropped open and he turned to Leia, astonishment spreading across his face. "I thought he was dead… I mean, I know you said he was missing and they never found the body, but with everything that happened I just assumed…" He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't—"

Leia put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Joph. You couldn't have known."

"It is just, wow." Seastriker shook his head. "But Leia, I'm so happy for you. And you Ben." The man was struggling to hold back tears. Gatalentian's were known throughout the Galaxy as a particularly empathetic people, and he was no exception.

I saw Leia's lip tremble slightly as she struggled to find the words to explain the reunion was not quite as wondrous as the pilot seemed to believe. Yet again, Leia's reluctance to trust others placed her in a difficult position. Despite ostensibly being part of her inner circle, Seastriker had been left in the dark as to the fate of her Son. Now, he was about to learn that not only was I still alive, but I had in fact become the enemy he had given up everything to fight.

Seastriker could see the sadness in her expression. "Is everything ok?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

"He is not the same person you remember," Leia said softly. "The past few years have not been kind to him, and the truth…" She inhaled deeply. "The truth is, Ben came under the influence of the Dark Side."

Seastriker's expression morphed from tender concern to shock. I could feel fear suddenly take hold within him. "Like Vader?" he asked, his voice noticeably cooler.

Leia closed her eyes for several seconds, the comparison giving her chills. She knew it was an apt comparison, but it still pained her tremendously to hear her son compared to a great Sith Lord. I wondered if she realized how I idolized my grandfather. "Even Darth Vader found his way back to the light," Leia said. "It will not be easy, but Ben will too."

I frowned at her statement, but did not contradict her. There was nothing I really needed to say; my somber demeanor told him all he needed to know about where I stood.

"I know you have given me your trust more times than I deserve," Leia continued. "And once again, I'm asking you to believe in my judgment."

He still looked sullen, but nodded. "Of course, General."

"There is one more thing you need to know," she said. I was finding this impromptu tell-all most amusing, but suppressed a smile. "Ben was, until recently, a member of the First Order."

Seastriker's face darkened more. "The rumor I heard was true." He turned away, reluctant to accept a reality that only moments before had seemed absurd. He took several steps, shaking his head as he struggled with a truth he found as morbid as the destruction around him.

"What rumor?" Leia inquired.

Seastriker did not turn around. "Several members of the _Emancipator_ crew said that you had brought Kylo Ren aboard the ship. It was so ludicrous I dismissed it immediately, but—" His voice trailed off.

"They are correct," I said, careful to keep my voice cool and calm. I motioned to Leia. "What you had been told is in fact accurate: Ben Solo _is_ gone. He was weak, and thus is no more."

He looked at me, and for a moment I thought the short blonde pilot was going to be sick. He shook his head several times and the feeling seemed to pass. "I'm not sure I understand, but you are creeping me out when you talk like that."

"When the dark side takes control," Leia explained, "it tries to suppress the good in someone, and by doing so makes them into someone else." Leia looked at me, her eyes burrowing into my face. "But the true person is still there, and if they fight hard enough, they can emerge again."

I glared at Leia. If one has access to ultimate power, why would they fight it? The only reason to resist the darkness is an inability to move pass trite and inconsequential emotional attachments.

"You make it sound like there are multiple personalities in there," he said, looking back and forth between Leia and me.

"There is only what was, and what I am now," I corrected. "They do _not_ coexist. I _am_ Kylo Ren," I added firmly, "and no one else."

Leia lowered her head slightly. "You know that's not true."

I ignored her. "That, however, does not mean I am your enemy, Commander."

Seastriker was dubious. "Galentians still teach their children of the Jedi," he said, his voice soft but fervent. "Never once did a Dark Sider do anything not in their self interest."

I shrugged, a gesture that seemed to surprise Seatriker. The informal expression of indifference apparently conflicted with the mental image he had of a Master of the Dark Side. "Aren't we all driven by our own motivations? Even the most altruistic individual chooses their actions based on what brings them satisfaction, no matter how selfless they appear."

"But the actions of most people are limited by their morals and ethics," Seastriker argued. "Dark Siders have no such restraint."

"I am not bound by any hollow social constructs," I admitted. Seastriker understood what that meant, and his jaw clenched visibly. "But when my goals align with yours, there is no reason for you not to accept my help."

"Your help?" He asked suspiciously.

"Ben has offered his assistance in the search," Leia said, ignoring the irritated look I gave her. "You'll find his skills in the Force are more versatile than most life-sign scanners."

"Isn't he dangerous?" Seastriker asked.

"He has been disarmed," Leia said.

That fact alone did not allay the younger man's concerns. He knew one who could use the Force had no need for a weapon. "Your caution is wise," I commended, "But even my abilities have limits. I am surrounded by members of the Resistance with a fleet of capital ships overhead." Getting past such a force was not necessarily an insurmountable challenge, but not a certainty either. I looked up at the sky. "And where would I go?"

For several seconds the pilot considered my words, as well as the wishes of Leia. "You will do exactly as I instruct, and there will be no second chances," Seastriker said, his commanding tone almost comical coming from a short, young man. "If you do anything threatening, I will do whatever it takes to _bring you down_."

Once again I had to suppress a smile. He had intended the statement as a threat, but it was quite amusing. If the small man thought he could do anything to stop me, he was delusional. "You will not need to attempt to do so," I said.

Seastriker did not seem to notice the hidden meaning of my statement and took it at face value. That darkness that had crossed his face disappeared as his expression became more natural. "Well, how does this Force stuff work anyway?"

A/N: I read Claudia Gray's Bloodline some time ago (those of you who have as well probably noted certain references to it before) and decided that Joph Seastriker would fit in well as a character (other than Poe) that would trust Leia enough to give Kylo/Ben a chance. By introducing him there may be a few small spoilers to Bloodline or other associated cannon, but I don't think it will be anything too dramatic.

As an aside, I originally had Kylo and Rey working together… two chapters of it, in fact, but it all felt too rushed and I felt like it did not convey the gravity of the situation. As Rey noted, the Dark Side has ways of tricking people into using it, and I felt it would take something bigger than a search and rescue operation for her to open up to Kylo. Don't worry though—something bigger is coming soon!

As always, thank you for the remarkable support. All the reads, follows, faves, and reviews mean more than you know. Special thanks to Fern Haddock, NoveltyRose, Lord Revan Flame, PrincessStarberry, and AnakinandPadme on their extremely kind reviews on the last two chapters!

Thanks again for reading!


	22. Chapter 21

I stood precariously amongst the tangled mass that had once been a building. My feet were spread apart, boots perched on pieces of steel reinforcement that were narrower than my soles. Years of training had refined my sense of balance; despite the poor footing and wind pulling at my cloak it took no conscious effort to avoid falling.

Seastriker stood about twenty meters away, crouched down to lower his center of gravity. "Scanners are indicating life in this corner," he yelled, motioning to a spot to my left. "There is some sort of power source down there that is still energized so I can't get a better reading."

I inhaled deeply and reached out with the Force, opening my palm in that direction and flexing my gloved fingers as I let my mind run freely through the shattered remains of the structure. My eyes flickered involuntarily as I processed the information—and then I had them. I could feel them, trapped beneath the rubble and comatose with fear. Several were injured, one severely. He was valiantly fighting the excruciating pain, but his long term prognosis was questionable. "Four," I said, avoiding any hint of feeling in my voice. "I believe one of them may be trapped or impaled. Have your team dig in grid twelve."

"How deep?" he asked.

"Eight to ten meters below the surface," I replied. Seastriker nodded. The first time I had located a trapped victim he had been hesitant to trust my accuracy. His fear had led to his workers to dig by hand at first: though tedious and slow, the small hand tools were less likely to injure those trapped below if my predictions of their location were inaccurate. After being repeatedly proven correct Seastriker no longer held such reservations, and a Brax Lasershovel was quickly moved into position.

The sound of the cutting laser meant I had a moment to myself, and I gazed out across what had once been a city of thirty thousand.

I could see her from my location, perched atop a similar pile several hundred meters away. Even from such a distance her emotions radiated like a scorching sun of a desert planet. Frustration in the slow recovery effort, concern for those trapped below, and fear of the dark creature she knew lurked nearby.

It had been my intention to demonstrate my superiority with the Force, and I was now confident that goal would be achieved by the end of the day. I had expected that I would be more capable at this task than her, but the difference in our aptitudes was actually surprising. By mid afternoon our team had saved thirty eight more people than Rey's. Seastriker was overjoyed by our success, his excitement at leading a team that had saved a full fifty percent more lives than any other eclipsing his animosity towards me, at least for now.

It was true my experience with the Force was far more expansive than Rey's, but I still I found it curious that she could not determine these people's locations with more accuracy. Perhaps the intense suffering emanating from them was difficult for her to withstand, limiting her ability to draw insight. I had no such weakness.

The sound of the lasershovel abated and more than a dozen men and women crowded into the opening it had created. Moments later, two dust covered but mostly uninjured children emerged, followed by a limping woman. Two more minutes passed before a man was removed. He was clinging to life, his left leg shredded by the force of a building coming to rest atop it. The rescue team handed the weak body to several medical workers who quickly set to work stabilizing him.

Seastriker wasted no time, something I appreciated. Too many of these altruistic young officers revel in every small victory; for all his failings the young Commander was at least task driven.

"Another life sign here," he said.

Once again I extended my mind towards the spot he indicated. "No," I said, shaking my head.

A look of confusion spread across his face. He awkwardly maneuvered up the side of the rubble pile, closing to within a few meters of me. "What do you mean? I know the sensors aren't perfect, but false positives are very rare."

"The computer senses life," I explained. "I sense death." Seastriker apparently did not understand, so I elaborated further: "She will die before she can be reached. Your resources are best deployed elsewhere."

His expression hardened. "That is not acceptable. Who are you to determine who lives and dies?"

I thought his question was musing, given that I had much such innumerous such decisions. "It is no longer within our power to make such a decision," I said.

"How can you _know_ she will die."

I looked down at him, locking my eyes with his. "Torture provides substantial insights into just what a sentient being can take before succumbing to injuries," I said, feeling the cold chill run through him. Countless people had died at my hands in the interrogation chambers of the First Order: some quite abruptly; others had lingered between life and death for an extended period before finally surrendering to their fate. I had felt their pain and experienced their thoughts as they made the transition. I was confident the women beneath our feet had little time left among the living.

Seastriker knew my words were ground in experience, which is why they disturbed him so. He also found himself the victim of the incorrigible empathy so many in the Galaxy seemed to suffer from. "She deserves that we try," he argued stubbornly. "At the very least she deserves we do what we can to alleviate her suffering."

There was no debate to be had at that moment; youthful optimism clouded his judgment. He had seen war, but his blindness to the Force meant had not truly seen death. He had not felt what a person goes through as they expire. He simply could not understand, but when the corpse was found nearly thirty-five minutes later, my point was made.

As afternoon stretched into evening, we all began to feel the effects of hours of physical and mental exertion. No member of the team was willing to be the first to give into their fatigue, nor was I willing to take a break until Rey did the same. Ultimately, however, the decision was not left to us. Recognizing that exhausted teams could be a danger to themselves, Leia ordered everyone to stand down as the sun dipped below the horizon.

We had found one hundred and thirty six people beneath the ruble, one hundred twenty nine of whom were expected to survive. Those results were electrifying to the people around me, but were utterly meaningless and inconsequential. A city of thirty thousand had been decimated, and perhaps half the population had died during the attack or in the fire and smoke that consumed the city. Even if one chose to ascribe value to these otherwise meaningless people, the preservation of merely one hundred lives was trivial.

I did, however, allow myself a slight smile upon receiving the news that Rey's team had only found eighty four survivors. It was ironic—for a moment, I shared in the happiness of those around me, but for reasons they would have found juvenile and even perverse. It was a demonstration of my superiority, a clear illustration of why she needed my guidance.

With much of the city destroyed, several pre-fabricated buildings had been erected to support the rescue teams. The staging area was nearly seven kilometers from where we had been working, and with limited transportation available the journey to the complex took more than an hour on foot. On more than one occasion I could sense Seastriker contemplating a conversation with me, his curiosity in conflict with his fear and antipathy. He wondered how the son of a woman he idolized could become the symbol of all he hated, but his mind could not articulate the question. So we walked in silence.

Hundreds had gathered around the path leading into the staging area, eager to share their appreciation for the work that was being accomplished. They held hand written signs and candles, and several waved or cheered as groups of weary rescuers traipsed past.

I could feel the emotions of many of those assembled cool as I approached. It had become more widely known who I was, and my arrival was met with fear and anger rather than adulation despite my contributions. It was understandable, of course. But for a cruel twist of fate I would have been standing on the bridge of a Star Destroyer as it rained down fiery destruction rather than walking amongst the devastation it had left.

My work may have brought happiness and relief, but my presence brought nothing but agony and fear.

A/N: As always, thank you for taking the time to read, favorite, follow, and review! It is always great to hear from everyone, and I am immensely appreciative of your support and feedback!


	23. Chapter 22

Several prefabricated buildings had been delivered to the surface throughout the day, forming a temporary city. The structures were designed to house and support a combat garrison, but they were equally adept and providing food and shelter to the search teams. A portable infirmary was inundated by victims: the town's main hospital had been destroyed, and the demand for medical care far exceeded the facility's capacity. It was interesting, I thought, that tools of war had found themselves part of a humanitarian effort. They had been conceived as a way to improve the efficiency with which a force could take life; now they would serve an effort to preserve it.

Several hours of mental and physical exertion had let to noticeable dehydration, and I found myself draining a one liter bottle of water in a matter of minutes. A second bottle helped remove dust and dirt from my face. Feeling faintly refreshed, I walked to a marginally quiet area outdoors. I knew the solitude I craved would not be possible to find; simply avoiding a crowd would need to do for now.

For several minutes I stood silently. My muscles ached from the strain of hours perched atop rugged piles of rubble. That mattered little; pain was an ally, and even the gentle soreness of exertion could be used to fan the flames of power within. Fatigue and hunger were more frustrating; unlike pain they were merely distractions: unrelenting needs of the human body that could not be overcome.

I looked up at the sky. The black clouds had broken into a scattered layer, allowing the final vestiges of sunlight to create an elegant tapestry on the surface of the planet. The brightest of the stars had appeared, as well a large single moon that elicited a soft blue glow. One bright spot moved with notable speed, most likely one of the larger capital ships that had assumed orbit around the planet.

I closed my eyes, letting my senses wander. The air had cooled noticeably, leaving it heavy with moisture. Dew had begun to form on many surfaces. The unrelenting winds of the day had finally begun to ease as the sun set, and the smell of the fields surrounding the city slowly began to supplant the stench of burnt structures. It was as if an uneasy peace had begun to settle: even the people, finally coming to terms with the initial shock of the attack, had begun to accept the events and focus on what would come next.

Sadly, it was a peace I could not take part in. Even with my senses unfocused I could tell when she drew near. The signature radiated with Light in a way that made her approach obvious. I did not turn to look at her, preferring to cast my gaze skyward.

"You saved many lives today," Leia said, her voice tepid but warm. She came up beside me, placing her hand gently on my shoulder. "You should be proud."

I did not respond. I had no desire to receive accolades from her nor to congratulate myself. I had completed a frivolous a task, saving the lives of dozens of inconsequential beings in the process. The fact that my prowess with the Force made me effective was immaterial. I held no illusions that what I had done held any great meaning.

"Whatever your motivations, you did something good today," Leia persisted. "I remember a time when you valued life. And the happiness of others. A time when you would have taken great satisfaction in helping others."

"That time has passed," I said slowly, my voice firm but not spiteful.

"As has your time with the First Order," Leia said pointedly.

"Perhaps," I said in quietly. "There is no map to guide one's future."

"But there is direction. What does the Force tell you?"

I looked over at her, my eyes studying her aged face. The Force was quite clear. The Galaxy required order. I was the one to bring it. "Your views are too narrow to understand."

She sucked in her lips, but did not respond.

"I cannot give you what you want," I explained. "You only prolong your own agony by continuing to seek it."

She glanced downward. "I only want you to be happy."

"Happiness is an illusion," I replied, articulating each word slowly and carefully. "A creation of minds that are not strong enough to comprehend the suffering and agony that defines us. There is no such thing for those that truly understand the universe."

"Just consider," she said carefully, "that your understanding is not as all-encompassing as you believe."

I sneered at her. "What happiness has this universe brought you that it has not taken away?"

Before she could respond I sensed someone moving away from where the others had congregated and approaching us. I shifted my gaze in the direction of the intruder. Moments later the sound of footsteps became apparent, and Leia joined me in facing the interloper.

"I'm sorry to intrude, General," Seastriker said hesitantly, obviously uncomfortable to interrupt the conversation between his superior officer and a man he considered the personification of a nightmare. "You asked to be informed when everyone was assembled."

Leia was obviously frustrated by the disruption, but was not about to criticize the Commander for following her instructions. "Thank you, Joph." She turned back to me. "I need to address the relief teams and some of the locals," she said. "I would like you to come."

I frowned. "I have heard your hollow speeches. You attempt to uplift the downtrodden with false promises and meaningless platitudes."

She shook her head. "I don't care what you think about the speech. I want you to see the people. To understand their resolve."

I exhaled slowly, considering her request. It was another pointless endeavor, but I had no compelling reason to resist beyond my own antipathy to masses reveling in false hope and lies. I nodded and followed her.

An impromptu platform had been fashioned from various supply crates, and the area around it was filled with people. Many wore the uniforms of the Reistance or New Republic, but others were clearly locals dressed in drab, functional clothing that one would expect to see on a farming planet.

Seastriker and another Resistance officer gently but firmly pushed through the crowd, providing Leia and I with a clear path. I stopped several meters from the platform, having no interest in drawing additional attention to myself. Regardless of my affiliation, I doubted the recently deposed Master of the Knights of Ren would be well received by the residents of a world that had just been burned by the First Order.

Leia mounted the platform to a series of cheers and a wave of applause. A smile struggled to form on her tired, sad face as the energy of the crowd flowed through her. Several of her officers and confidants, including Dameron and Rey, stood just below the platform.

The recognition was not unexpected. She had been one of the most prominent politicians in the Galaxy until her deceitful nature resulted in a precipitous fall. Still, those opposing the First Order sought a leader, and her popularity had grown as the fight against Snoke's forces intensified. The legends of her actions against the Empire had persevered, now serving as an inspiration to those who refused to accept the rule of the First Order.

These people had forgotten her lies; I never would.

The sound began to die down to a level where she could address the assembled. "The sun sets today on a world far different than the one it rose over. A world that has been battered and scarred, burned and disfigured. A world who's people have had to face the darkest forces evil can bring to bear."

The crowd had fallen silent, some enraptured by her words and others simply caught up in their own grief. "I am not a stranger to destruction. The fight against the tyranny, oppression, and hate has claimed more lives than any of us can comprehend, yet each individual blow we are dealt is a fresh tragedy. It is something that becomes harder to deal with over time, not easier."

"We live in a Galaxy encumbered by malevolent forces that threaten all we hold dear." Leia turned towards what had once been the city skyline, looking at the smoldering ruins bathed in emergency lighting and the gentle glow of the blue moon. "We are surrounded by the calling card of evil," she said, turning back to the crowd. "We are victims of our own compassion: because we love, because we care, we feel the loss. We agonize of what has happened, and fear over what comes next."

Leia continued: "Our compassion, our love, our caring—it is what they target. But it is also what gives us our resolve. Amidst the pain, I can see our strength. By the people of Ultan who refuse to surrender to their fear, but instead declare that their world will survive. By the relief crews who have selflessly worked to free those trapped, support those that survived, and comfort those grieving who they have lost. By the very fact that not one of you has been defeated."

There were murmurs of agreement throughout the crowd, along various gestures of support. Leia's expression softened for a moment as she acknowledged their appreciation, then her somber demeanor returned. "All of us have seen adversity. We stand here not because of some great skill or uncommon valor, but because we continue to stand together. A hero is the ordinary person who chooses to persevere despite overwhelming obstacles. I stand before you looking into the eyes of heroes, of brave individuals who do not want to be in this situation but refuse to walk away from it!"

Once again the crowd cheered her and Leia paused for several seconds. As the outpouring quieted, she began her final statement.

"I cannot say anything that will ease our pain, that will speed our recovery, or that will help us understand how anyone could be compelled to commit such heinous attacks. But I can tell you something with absolute confidence and certainty: we shall never cease to endure against this evil until they have been taught a lesson which they and the Galaxy will never forget!"

The crowd erupted in cheers, enraptured by her meaningless prose. I found it interesting that her final statement could easily be understood as a call for revenge. Like any good politician she had used words of sufficient ambiguity that she could deny such an interpretation. Still, it was undeniable that rapturous response came from a visceral desire to see the lesson she spoke of delivered in the form of cruel and satisfying retribution.

Despite the deafening roar of the crowd a feeling of danger screamed clearly through the Force. I could she Rey shudder as she sensed it as well, her powerful but undisciplined senses unsure how to interpret the menace she felt.

My right hand dropped towards my belt, instinctively reaching towards a lightsaber I no longer possessed. Clenching my jaw in frustration I turned my eyes towards the impending threat, reaching out through the Force to find some intimation of what was to come.

A/N: Hopefully everyone enjoyed Leia's big speech. In addition to getting everyone gathered together, it gave me a chance to try a different type of writing. Hopefully it fit well with her character: strong and proud, but warm and compassionate.

I should point out that though various "Easter eggs" appear throughout this story, ranging from bits of song lyrics to ancient writings (see if you can find Rey paraphrasing Plato:)), this chapter uses quotes from Winston Churchill and Christopher Reeves in a manner that I feel requires attribution.

As always, thank you for the faves, follows, and especially reviews and PMs. It is always a high point of my day to hear from you all! Thank you!


	24. Chapter 23

To those standing in the crowd the two brilliant balls of shimmering yellow light appeared from nowhere, erupting above them and exploding outward in a furious maelstrom before abruptly stopping. Spheres of fire and shrapnel hovered menacingly above the gathering.

To me they were two distinct projectiles that had been moving silently across the night sky before I had impeded their advancement. Stopping a single laser was hardly difficult; projectile weapons were far more challenging. In addition to tempering the energy of the explosion, I found myself faced with controlling thousands of individual particles, each one of which could shred flesh. I had closed my eyes and spread my arms, turning my gloved palms skyward and letting the Force flow through me. My mouth twitched upward in unconscious satisfaction: even light and energy capitulated to my will.

Even before those around me had fully realized what was occurring, a second pair of projectiles lanced across the sky, and I bit down on my tongue as I struggled to contain the next wave of weapons fire. Screams erupted from the crowd as they recognized the imminent danger, and I could feel them fleeing around me, some brushing against my outstretched arms as they rushed to the apparent safety of the tree line.

The second round of fire became locked in the air just as the first had, but further from the intended targets and before the anti-personnel warheads had detonated to release their flesh cutting cargo. My tenuous grasp on all four weapons solidified and I opened my eyes to survey my surroundings. An area filled with hundreds only moments before was now deserted, the packed earth they had stood on gently illuminated by the deadly glow I held aloft.

No further shots were fired. It is possible they were out of ammunition: such anti-personnel weapons are bulky and difficult to carry on foot. It was also likely the assailants were well trained and knew pressing an unsuccessful attack is inadvisable. Not only do their objectives become more difficult to obtain once the targets are alerted to their presence, but the attackers risk capture themselves.

I inhaled and released my grip, raising my forearm in front of me and using the Force to shield my own body from the impending cascade of heat and shrapnel. The frozen explosions resumed their outward expansion, engulfing the area where the crowd had been standing in a wave of fire and razor sharp debris. The podium where Leia had stood was engulfed in flame, then shredded apart by shards of molten metal.

The second two weapons erupted, again bathing the area in brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows. The lacerated remains of the make-shift podium were leveled, and even with the Force I found the heat almost overwhelming. Fatigued from my exertion I allowed an angular piece of metal to slip through my defenses, opening a wound in my right cheek before its trajectory carried it away.

The crowd had dispersed, and I raised my hand to inspect my injury. It bled profusely but was superficial. I pressed gloved fingers against it, feeling the warm blood flow freely down my cheek and briefly hug the contours of my chin before dripping onto my chest. I aggressively twisted my index finger against the injury, causing pain to radiate across my face. I welcomed it, closing my eyes and using it to restore the strength that my Force use had sapped.

When I opened my eyes again I immediately recognized Dameron and Seastriker running towards me. They dodged the smoldering remains of the platform that were now spread across the area. Seastriker was surprisingly fast despite his short stature and arrived first.

"What just… did you?" he asked in confusion between heavy breaths.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Dameron asked as he came up behind him. He turned to me. "Galaxy would be a different place if not for that trick, huh?"

I looked at him and frowned, the meaning of his words abundantly clear. "My elimination would have foreshadowed your own," I said darkly. It was a reasonable statement; my demise would likely have prevented Dameron from meeting the traitorous Stormtrooper and Rey. The weaknesses of Starkiller base may have remained secret long enough for it to complete its mission. Han Solo would have remained a small time smuggler in the outer reaches of the galaxy. And Leia would have been forced to come to terms with the fact a man acting on her orders had burned a hole through her son's chest.

"So… First Order friends of yours?" Seastriker asked, ignoring the tension between myself and Dameron.

I glared at the young blond man, making no effort to conceal my displeasure that he would describe a First Order special operations team as 'friends'. They were not my friends when I was there commander, and they certainly were not now. Seastriker took an involuntarily step backwards as our eyes met. "They were likely sent by the First Order," I confirmed. "The explosions are consistent with a Ziox-IV anti-personnel weapon."

"How many?" Seastriker pressed.

"They would attempt to accomplish the mission with the smallest force possible. Most likely a two-man Special Operations team."

"That's heavy duty weaponry to leave on a farming planet," Dameron said thoughtfully. "They must have thought someone important was going to be here."

I nodded. "Any First Order officer who rises to command a _Resurgent_ -class ship would know that the Resistance and Republic would send someone of prominence, if only as a gesture of support and to call for calm."

"So are they going to try again?" Seastriker asked. "And are there more of them?"

"I feel it is unlikely they would risk premature detection by landing multiple teams," I said, letting my mind wander back through innumerable briefings and planning meetings. I took part in such events as rarely as possible, but on occasions when my personal mission required coordination with other military forces I was compelled to better understand their specific tactics. In contrast to the rest of the First Order, special operations officers took a minimalist approach and valued stealth over resiliency when developing a plan. "They will only attempt an attack if the conditions are favorable."

Dameron shook his head. "So we need to be vigilant… and on the defensive. That is going to hamper our relief efforts."

"There is a more insidious threat," I said. "If the team has a means of communicating with the First Order…" I let my words trail off.

"They would need a sizeable force to take on what we have in orbit right now," Dameoron pointed out. "Would they want to devote those kinds of resources just to take out the General?"

I pursed my lips. "It depends on the responsible commander. Several of them have unbridled ambition," I said quietly. "And Leia may no longer be the only target."

"You think they recognized you?" Seastriker asked.

"I do not know," I admitted. "Few in the First Order's lower ranks knew my face, but that may have changed." It was possible that every First Order troop had been given instructions to assist in the apprehension of their former commander, including methods by which to identify him. It was also possible Snoke preferred to keep the news of my departure quiet; after all the very idea that anyone in the First Order could challenge the Supreme Leader's will was damaging. To be openly challenged by his most ardent and powerful servant could fan flames of discontent throughout the Order.

"The list of folks that can freeze explosions in mid-air isn't that long," Dameron added.

"It is an event that would certainly attract attention when their report reaches higher command," I acknowledged. "I doubt the alternative would have been preferable to you."

"No," Dameron said quietly. "I actually…" He paused for a moment. "Thank you I guess."

Dameron and I regarded each other for several seconds. "My actions were for my own benefit," I said into the silence.

The pilot hinted a smile. He knew I could have easily protected myself and let the others die; I had effectively done so when I released the warheads.

"I'll inform the _Alliance_ to be on the lookout for any transmissions that could be directed to the First Order," Seastriker said, refocusing the conversation. "We may not be able to stop them from sending a message, but there is a good chance we can pick it up."

"Unlikely," I said. "First Order Special Operations teams use low-power tight-beam transceivers to minimize the chance of detection."

"But," Dameron said, "that means they will need to bounce the signal off of some booster or relay station to get it back to the First Order."

Seastriker realized the point the other pilot was making. "And since a tight beam system needs line of sight with the relay station you need specific orbital alignments between the planet the relay is on and the one you are broadcasting from to send a message."

"We might actually have a little time to find these guys," Dameron continued, a sense of hope creeping into this voice.

I felt his optimism was misplaced. "Special Operations Troops of the First Order have evaded Resistance and New Republic forces in situations far more unfavorable to them than this one."

"Yeah, but we didn't have Kylo Ren on our side back then," Seastriker pointed out. "You must be able to do something… between what you know about them and the Force."

I lowered my head slightly, finding his words unduly disturbing. I had been struggling to create the perception that I was allied with the Resistance, but I had not been prepared for it to be stated so bluntly. The Idea that I was on the 'side' of a sworn enemy whom I had spent years attempting to eradicate was not easy to accept. I ultimately served myself, thus such a statement was not entirely true, but it was not patently false either.

Furthermore, his hope was misplaced. Despite the image I had managed to cultivate amongst my underlings and enemies, I was not omniscient.

"We need to try something," Dameron said. I could tell by his tone that he had a more measured reading of the situation than Seastriker. He had seen my ability with the Force on far more occasions, and he had also seen me fail to achieve my goals despite its assistance. The fact that he and his traitorous friend had evaded me when fleeing the _Finalizer_ was not lost on either of us. "We need to lock down all speeder traffic in this hemisphere immediately: we can't let these guys get too far away."

Seastriker furrowed his brow. "You think the local government will go for that?"

"General Organa will figure out a way. After all, they don't want more Star Destroyers in orbit either."

"Very true," the blonde pilot agreed. "They have just as much too loose as we do."

"Unlikely," I said, my voice cold. "Their deaths would be quick."

A/N: So things are about to get more complicated!

As always, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read, fave, follow, and review. Special thanks to IloveKylo, Deleon, Lady Lionhart, AnakinandPadmen, and PrincessStarberry for their reviews!

Thank you!


	25. Chapter 24

"Should any of us be captured by the First Order, the ensuing torture would demonstrate unequivocally that death is sometimes preferable to continued life," I said, watching the color drain away from Seastriker's face as he recognized my comment was not some simple attempt to instill fear but an candid reflection of what I had seen.

Dameron swallowed, but his spirited nature quickly resurfaced. "No… not really looking forward to being a First Order prisoner again." He turned to look directly at me. "Not that I didn't have a charming host last time. But you normally don't get that lucky twice."

"I have certain abilities they lack," I replied with no emotion. "Thus, their approach is often more… crude."

Dameron nodded in understanding, then motioned towards one of the prefabricated buildings nearby. "Command center is in there, we need to get things moving if we want to stay ahead of the game on this."

I followed the two pilots. The building had originally been developed to serve as the operational and administrative center of a deployed garrison. The entire structure could be erected in a matter of hours, providing office space and a command room. I took note that much of the equipment had not been updated since the fall of the Galactic Empire; while perfectly capable of supporting a humanitarian operation it would put the Resistance at a severe disadvantage in a military engagement with the First Order.

Leia was one of several individuals huddled over a display in the center of the command room. She immediately sensed my presence and turned to face me as I entered. "We all owe you a debt of gratitude," she said.

"But that is going to have to wait," Dameron interjected. "We might have a bigger problem." He nodded to me.

"If our presence here is reported to the First Order, it is likely that they will commence a second attack," I explained.

"According to Kylo, First Order Special Ops normally uses a narrow beam, low power transmitter. It is hard to detect or intercept, but it means it needs a line of sight link-up to some kind of relay," Dameron added. "Probably one not very far away."

"So they will not be able to send their report until planetary alignment is correct," Leia surmised.

"Yes, Ma'am." Dameron motioned towards the central display. "If I may General?"

Leia nodded, and Dameron proceeded to enter several instructions into the system. The display changed from a close-up of Myard City to a view of the entire quadrant, with Ultan IV at its center. Two other systems lit up as well. "Assuming the First Order hasn't come up with some revolutionary new portable transmitter, these are the only relay stations that are in range." He looked at me. "At least we think that is all of them."

Their eyes turned to me. "There is a facility under construction on Primaxa II," I offered, "I do not know if it's current status." I pointed at one of the illuminated systems. "Dvorkask was abandoned several months ago."

"Really? Why would the they do that?" one of Leia's aides asked.

I turned my gaze to her and frowned. Not only was the First Order's rational irrelevant, her inquiry was distracting from the situation at hand. "It no longer served a purpose," I replied, my tone suggesting any additional questions would be unwise.

"So no Dvorkask, and to be safe let's put Primaxa into the mix." Dameron keyed in several more commands. "So if the Special Operations team wants to transmit something to their commander, at least one of these two relays needs to be visible in the sky." He looked intently at a readout on the display. "At the rate of planetary rotation, the first relay will rise above the horizon in just under six hours."

"So assuming they stay put, we have six hours to find them before it doesn't really matter," Seastriker noted.

"And if they move to another location?" Leia asked. "One where a relay station will come into view sooner?"

"They'd need a speeder or spacecraft in order to move fast enough to make a difference," Dameron said. "So we need to ground all of them."

Leia hid her surprise well, only the slightest twitch of her eyebrows evident to the others. To me, her emotions were far more pronounced. "Speeders and spacecraft are instrumental to the relief effort."

"Should the First Order return," I said, "there will be no further need for a relief effort."

Leia let out her breath slowly. "You really believe they would attack again to capture or eliminate me?"

"Any First Order Commander who can slay the head of the Resistance would be rewarded immensely," I said. "It would be ill-advised to underestimate the ambition of men like Varral and Hux." I paused for a moment. "It is also possible that the Special Operations personnel either identified me, or their superiors will suspect my presence upon receipt of their report."

"And I'm guessing that's an even bigger prize," Seastriker said. "Bringing your head to Snoke would be a real career boost." His smirk slowly waned as he saw Leia's dark expression. Despite all that had transpired, my torture or execution at the hands of Snoke or his agents was a source of grave concern for her.

Leia turned to one of her aides. "Is Councilor Hahmes still here?"

"Yes, General," the woman answered. "I'll get him immediately."

Leia returned her attention to the plots in myself. "Councilor Hahmes is a member of the Myard City Council and has been our government contact here," she explained. I did not attempt to feign interest.

Moments later, the aide returned with slender man of average height, the fatigue in his eyes suggesting he had not slept in quite some time. "You asked for me General?" His eyes flicked across the assembled people and came to a stop on me. Standing taller than any other human in the room and dressed in black, it was not surprising I attracted his attention. "You are the one that stopped the attack?"

I looked down at the shorter man, his amicable expression wavering slightly as our eyes met. "I am"

"That was most impressive," Hahmes said. His words seemed warm, but it was the hollow politeness of a politician. Below the surface he was uneasy, his mind uncomfortable with what had transpired and intimidated by both my power and appearance. "How did you do that?"

It took a great deal of effort to hide my antipathy for useless small talk. "My capabilities with the Force are quite extensive," I replied.

For a moment Hahmes seemed to take the comment at face value, then somewhere deep in his mind he made a startling connection. The warmth wavered, and then disappeared, a look of apprehension settling over his face. "Since General Organa arrived there have been rumors she was accompanied by Kylo Ren. I had assumed they were an exaggeration. The idea that…"

Leia lowered her gaze slightly. "I apologize; I should have told you Councilor," she said in a conciliatory tone.

"I'm sure you had no intention to mislead me, General," Hahmes replied, his tone not as forgiving as his words. His thoughts were even less so, but he knew better than to alienate Leia. "You did indeed say you had a First Order defector with you, and I never explicitly asked… but… a First Order officer is one thing, Kylo Ren…." He turned back to me. "The terror we experienced, the suffering we are now enduring, it has happened many times before; and often on your personal orders."

"That is correct," I said. Despite a conscious effort to keep any hint of pride or satisfaction out of my voice I could still feel the chill running down Hahmes's spine.

"Councilor, I understand your discomfort," Leia said, "but we have certain matters to discuss that are time sensitive."

"Of course, General," Hahmes said, his eyes still on me.

"We have reason to believe that the attack on our assembly was perpetrated by a First Order Special Operations team that landed unnoticed during the attack."

The councilor finally turned to her. "That does not seem to be surprising."

"The problem is," Dameron explained, "If they get a message off to the First Order—something saying General Organa and Kylo Ren are here—we are at risk of a second attack."

Hahmes face darkened perceptibly. "So his presence puts my people at risk?" he asked, a tinge of anger in his voice.

"As does the presence of any Resistance force," Leia reminded him.

"Of course your generosity is appreciated, even if it presents certain… challenges," Hahmes offered diplomatically. "But the fact remains we must face this new threat."

"We need to find the First Order troops before any message is sent," Leia explained.

"How do we do that… how do we know it hasn't been sent already?"

Dameron answered: "According to Kylo, they have only a narrow-beam medium range transmitter. So a nearby system with a First Order relay station must be visible in the sky for them to send a message. That hasn't happened yet from this part of the planet."

The Councilor flashed a modest smile, using self-deprecation to soften his ignorance. "I'm sorry, I'm a farmer and a councilman."

Dameron entered several commands into the display panel, and the system map was replaced by a close up showing the curvature of the planet's surface. "They need a small, portable transmitter that cannot be intercepted easily," he explained. "Thus it is not going to have much range, so only the nearest First Order outposts could pick it up and relay it. In fact, only two are in range, one in the Kapor sector, and the other on Primaxa II. Right now, both of those are below the horizon."

He input several keystrokes, and the view zoomed out. Two dots illuminated to represent the First Order outposts, along with a third dot showing our approximate location on the planet's surface. "As you can see, the receivers they need to broadcast to are on the other side of the planet right now. So they need to wait until the planet rotates enough"—the display of Ultan began to spin—"until they come into view in the sky."

"But couldn't they just take a shuttle and go to the other side of the planet?" Hahmes asked.

Leia nodded. "That is why I need your help. We need to ground all speeders and spacecraft. Immediately."

Hahmes looked confused, then his face gradually grew red. "Ground… do you realize what damage that will do to the relief efforts?"

"Far less than another attack," Seastriker said.

"And these assumptions… this intelligence your acting on… is from _him_?" Hahmes scoffed. "You want to derail our entire relief effort on the word of _Kylo Ren?_ "

"I have no reason to deceive you," I said acridly, my conscious effort to hide my contempt for the man failing. "I gain nothing by impairing your relief efforts."

"You get to prolong the suffering and misery of my people. Don't you Dark Siders take pleasure in that?"

"If I wanted to cause suffering I need not resort to such elaborate deceptions," I replied firmly. With no apparent motion on my part I reached out through the Force gently wrapping a tendril around the man's throat. He reached up as if brushing away an invisible cobweb, seeming not to realize the veiled threat of my actions.

I turned to Leia. "Why are we even discussing this with a lowly Councilor?"

Hahmes nostrils flared, and his anger barely contained within the polished politician's exterior. "Because my colleagues—my friends—are dead."

"All of them?" Seastriker asked. "An entire government wiped out?

The councilor inhaled sharply, his years of political experience helping him to regain a sense of calm. "Our procedures call for all of the Councilors, as well as the City Overseer and Planetary Governor, to assemble in the council chambers to deal with emergency situations. I was delayed by debris along my path. The chambers were destroyed before I arrived... with all my counterparts inside."

"It is a poor strategy to centralize your leadership in such a way," I offered, eliciting sharp stares from my companions. The Councilor himself seemed a bit taken aback; I had no intention of faking compassion in the face of such an egregious tactical error.

"We are a farming community," Hahmes explained. "Our emergencies are generally limited to foul weather or industrial accidents. We had no reason to think the chambers would be targeted in such a way."

"Lack of perceived threats is not a suitable excuse for failing to make adequate preparations." Certainly, anyone under my command claiming they failed to defend their territory because the danger was unlikely would not live long enough to remediate their mistake.

"Not all cultures spend their time preparing for war," Dameron pointed out.

Hahmes pursed his lips, carefully considering his response in the way politicians often do. It is likely he chose his words carefully for Leia's benefit rather than mine; I doubted the man cared what I thought of him. "We are a people of hope, Mr. Ren. We do not spend our time working to better ourselves, not imaging the worst horrors that can befall us."

"You have not begun to see the terror that can be unleashed by the forces of the First Order," I replied. "You should consider yourselves lucky."

"Lucky?" Hahmes scoffed incredulously, the polished political veneer rapidly coming off. "Thousands dead, families torn apart. You've walked through the ruins, how can you possibly not be moved by such destruction? How can you not despise yourself for what _you_ have done?"

"My actions have always been in pursuit of a greater purpose. I do not have the luxury of concerning myself with individual lives."

"Those are the words of a murder, not a defector," Hahmes observed.

"Call me what you will," I hissed, "But I have purpose in the Galaxy."

"The persecution of the innocent is not a purpose!" Hahmes roared. His face was contorted by emotion. "It is a sickness."

A/N: As always, thank you for all the follows, views, faves, and especially reviews and PMs!

I know the talk about transmitters and such can slow things down a bit, but I needed to set up for the next section of the story which I think will be pretty interesting.

Thanks again!


	26. Chapter 25

"Councilor, please!" Leia interjected forcibly. "We are not here to argue about the past, but to find a way forward. And we must do so quickly."

Hahmes was fuming, but did not respond.

"Councilor, I get how you feel," Dameron conceded. He pointed at me, almost theatrically. "The first time I faced that man an entire village of innocent people died, simply because they were there. He then tortured me mercilessly, tearing through my head with invisible fingers that burned like a blaster bolt." He took a breath, trying to control the emotion in his voice. "That is a man that has killed needlessly and without regret, having the blood of millions on his hands: including his own father's. He deserves every single punishment and penalty that is going through your mind right now and many, many more. But as bizarre and painful as it is, I'm standing here next to him. Our lives… your people's lives… they are all best served by using the information he has. His assistance may seem inconsequential when compared to his atrocities, but it is _something._ And right now, we desperately need something."

I regarded Dameron for a moment. His relaxed demeanor and irritating sense of humor had not disguised that he viewed me as an ally of convenience, but even so the words were a bit more caustic than I expected. Of course it was not surprising: the pilot had every reason to hate me. Deep within he burned the same fiery desire for revenge Hahmes felt. He would keep it in check as long as necessary, but it would never dissipate.

"Your point is well made, Commander," Hahmes said quietly. "The well-being of my people is far more important than any personal vendetta." The politician sighed. "I will do what I can. With limited communications and a great deal of confusion, it may not be possible to ground every speeder on the planet." He turned and walked towards the office he had been in prior to our arrival.

Leia looked at the pilots. "Poe, Joph I want you to get a plan together to check out any aircraft not heeding the no-fly order. As the councilor said, a lot of people may not get the message so we can't assume they are hostile, but we need to verify every single one."

Both officers acknowledged her instruction. "We are going to need at least two squadrons on patrol to cover the entire hemisphere," Dameron said, his eyes moving back and forth as he did mental math in his head. "At least three more on standby for relief or any other unusual situations."

Leia nodded. "Use whatever resources you need."

Dameron glanced at Seastriker, than back to Leia. "With your permission we'll return to the _Emancipator_ to coordinate the patrols."

Leia nodded again. "I will inform the staff here to coordinate with you." The two pilots began to walk away, but Leia grabbed Dameron's shoulder and he turned to face her again.

"General?"

She was silent for a moment, as if reconsidering what she was about to say. "Until further notice I would like you to take command of the _Emancipator_."

Dameron swallowed. "Of course, Ma'am, but Commander Welles—"

"This is an operation that will rely on our fighter wings, and Commander Welles has no fighter experience," Leia said. It was flimsy justification: many senior military leaders had little or no experience in the cockpit but knew how to strategically and tactically employ the fighter wings under their command. Welles certainly would not have been assigned as second in command of the _Emancipator_ if he had not demonstrated a capacity to effectively use all of its assets in combat, including the Starfighters in the vessel's hangar bays.

Dameron knew that as well. "Officially, of course General. But, is this… intuition?"

"I trust you to put personal feelings aside for the good of these people, and our people. I have concerns about Commander Welles's ability to work with my Son should it become necessary." She looked over at me. "I do not take my mistakes lightly, and will not repeat them."

"That would be wise," I said, tilting my head slightly. "Other officers might not be as fortunate as Captain Ankira."

I could feel the wave of revulsion wash across her mind, but her face remained impassive as she turned back to Dameron. "Good luck, Commander. May the Force be with you."

"And you, General," Dameron said. His eyes turned to me, and for a moment he struggled to come up with appropriate parting words. "And… I guess the Force is always with you." He turned to follow Seastriker to a nearby transport.

Leia watched him leave, then turned back to me. "How do we find them?"

I did not respond immediately. I was accustomed to the task: locating those who opposed or threatened the Supreme Leader had been among my core responsibilities. I had traveled to many worlds to capture or slay humans and aliens that had the audacity to resist the First Order. But this situation was different. As a leader of the First Order I had commanded formidable resources and had access to the most comprehensive intelligence gathering apparatus in the Galaxy. I also was empowered to use whatever methods I deemed aprproaite. Resistance idealism imposed new constraints, demanding that loss and suffering of bystanders be minimized.

"They are well trained in evasion," I finally answered. "And highly unpredictable. They may seek shelter in a remote location or attempt to blend in with the civilian population. These are not mindless Stormtroopers."

Again I sensed disgust and disappointment. "Suppressing individuality and denying free will does not make someone mindless."

I raised an eyebrow. "It seems to me it is the definition of the word." Leia frowned at my rebuke but remained silent, so I continued. "The training of these men will make the particularly challenging to find."

"For our troops..." Leia glanced downward, then back at me. "Can you locate them with the Force?"

I exhaled slowly. Though the thoughts of the First Order operatives would undoubtedly hint of their intentions, they were two minds amongst thousands that I would need to search. It would be exhausting and arduous during the best of times. Doing so in the time allotted could well prove impossible. Even the weakest of minds took time to explore, and over a distance the challenge increased dramatically. "I do not know," I admitted. "Differentiating them from others requires techniques that are not commonly exercised over such a range." I left it unsaid that such techniques were rooted in the Dark Side. I faced sufficient impediments without Leia questioning my methodologies.

Leia could sense that I was holding something back, but moved on. "The resources of the Resistance are at your disposal."

I suppressed a grimace, and noted the dry irony of the situation. Weeks before the people and equipment of the Resistance were arrayed against me in combat; now they stood ready to assist me. For whatever good it would do them.

"I have no need for your feeble-minded peons," I said bluntly.

Leia's face hardened. "Your negativity doesn't help."

"Neither does your baseless optimism," I countered.

"Let me help you," Leia said, taking a step closer. Though I had no desire to admit it, the assistance of another Force user would be valuable. With the only minimal guidance someone of sufficient power could work in parallel with me to dramatically increase the speed of the search.

Leia's skills, however, had atrophied. She maintained her sensitivity to the Force, but I doubted she would be able to effectively manipulate it. But she was not my only possible assistant. "You do not have the skills I require; however, you may be able to bring me someone who does."

Leia's expression turned sour. "I am not going to force her to—"

"This time she does not have the luxury of clinging to her ideals!" I interrupted harshly. "If she refuses to assist me, the blood of these people will be on her hands." I took in a calming breath. "I cannot guarantee success," I confessed, "but her assistance could materially benefit my efforts. You must give her the opportunity to make that decision on her own."

Leia starred at me for several seconds. "Do not attempt to deceive her or me," Leia said firmly. "If I agree to this—"

"I am willing to allow her to make her own choice," I interrupted. "I expect you to do the same." I looked over Leia's head, letting my eyes take in the dark silhouette of the broken skyline in the distance. "She is strong," I added. "If you doubt her ability to resist me, you do not know her as well as I thought."

"She is strong, but the darkness is both powerful and seductive."

"As I am sure your brother has told her," I replied. I looked back down, locking my eyes with hers. "If you refuse to allow her free will in order to keep her on the path you desire, how are you different than those that suppress the choices of a Stormtrooper?"

Leia reflected on my statement for several moments. Finally, she acquiesced. "I will send for Rey," she said, reaching for a communications device.

"No," I said gently. "I will find a suitable location for meditation nearby. She will join me there."

"We will join you there," Leia added firmly.

Recognizing I had reached the most favorable terms I would receive, I nodded. I silently exited the command building I walked several hundred meters to the east, looking for a location that would be appropriate for mediation and contemplation. My search took me to the edge of the forest, where a small clearing was appointed with a fire pit and several logs that had been fashioned into seats. Though the route was a bit circuitous, I had no doubt Leia and Rey would find me easily. Not only was my signature in the Force powerful, it was also unmistakable.

Such a quiet location had attracted other relief workers seeking solace from the activity at the main base. Four men and two women sat around the crackling fire, some staring at the flames and others focused on the forest. They immediately took notice of my approach, and all of them silently stood, gathered their belongings, and began walking away. They remained silent, but their thoughts were ones of antipathy and repugnance.

Appreciative of my new found solitude, I looked upward at the soft blue moon ensconced within a sea of stars and envisaged the task ahead.

A/N: I need to admit, the next few chapters have been very exciting to write! The dynamic between Kylo and Rey is challenging and fun, and needless to say Rey will need to balance her compassion and desire to help others with her disdain for the Dark Side and Kylo himself!

As always, thank you for the continued faves, reviews, follows, and other support! It means the world!


	27. Chapter 26

Her presence in the Force had been clearly evident since I had arrived at Ultan, and I sensed her approach easily. Leia was with her, but the older woman stayed back and allowed Rey to come to me by herself. It was both an offer of privacy and an abdication of responsibility. The last few steps would be Rey's alone and of her own free will.

She stopped several meters away, and I knew her eyes were upon me even though I continued to look skyward. "Beautiful, isn't it?" I asked gently. "Thousands of points of light. Some individual stars, others entire galaxies filled with life."

"What do you know of beauty?" Rey bit out sourly. "You see a sky full of places for you to impose your malevolent rule."

She had no intention of making this easy. I was unsure what words Leia had used to get her to meet with me, but evidently they had not been adequate for her to approach with an open mind. "Yet to us, here and now, they are singular dots hung in the night sky." I turned to meet her eyes. "Am I not supposed to appreciate the magnificence of the cosmos?"

"I have not known a Dark Sider to appreciate anything but power."

I looked up again, a thin smile forming on my lips. "And how many do you know?" I asked rhetorically, once again looking skyward. "The night sky is simply proof that one needs Darkness to see the grandeur of the universe."

"You are purveyor of evil and suffering. You cannot justify that with metaphors and platitudes."

I turned my head abruptly towards her, a twinge of anger running through me. "The Light is nothing but platitudes," I said a bit more harshly than I intended. "I justify what I am through logic and fact."

"Logic that ignores the rights of others is rationalization, not reason."

"Is harmlessly searching someone's mind so that you may save their life wrong?" I countered.

For several seconds she was silent, contemplating a way to refute my statement. I stared into her eyes, careful to remain clear of her mind. "Who are you to determine what is harmless?" she finally asked.

"A fair question," I admitted. "In many cases we defer to those who have experience and knowledge. A child is told what to do by their elders, a trooper by his commander. But those of us who can touch the Force can see the universe as it truly is… what better source of wisdom is there?"

"What the Force grants us should be used to serve and protect, never to control or command."

It was a statement I had heard many times. Skywalker had repeated variations of it ad nauseam; every record of the Jedi emphasized their role as servants and guardians, not leaders. Visionaries like my grandfather recognized that timidity was not becoming of those who held the ultimate power of the universe in their hands and refused to succumb to the fears the Jedi sought to instill in him.

"You will turn away from the greatest gift the universe can bestow? The power to protect the weak and downtrodden?" I asked. As I stared into her eyes I felt myself speaking with a strange honesty and intensity, my muscles tensing as I longed for her to understand. "Are you willing to sacrifice the innocent to an ideology?"

She hesitated, and I could feel the confusion within her. She knew any step towards the Dark Side risked a permanent change in who she was, but her compassion was far too strong to ignore. She knew that my statement was not hypothetical: the people of Ultan would suffer if she adhered to the strictest instructions Skywalker had given her.

Rey turned to look at Leia, seeming to scan the older woman's face for any indication of what she should do, then looked back at me. If Leia supported a certain course of action she seemed unwilling to make her opinion known.

"This is exactly what Skywalker warned me about," she said softly. "If I do as you wish, I will need to accept what I know is wrong. But if I do nothing and we are attacked, that leads to suffering and hate…. There is no path that remains clear of the Dark Side."

I suppressed a smile as I saw her questioning the logical fallacies Skywalker had used to limit her power. "All who are one with the Force must face such questions," I said evenly. "Sometimes the path to what is right," I continued, my voice dropping to just above a whisper, "Leads through Darkness."

"But the darkness will not let go of someone easily," she countered.

"Or perhaps they refuse to let go of the Dark Side once they understand it." I took a step closer to her, my body centimeters from hers. As I did I felt her shudder slightly in a way that had nothing with the chill in the air. I slowly dropped to one knee so I could more easily study her face. Her gentle skin, her delicate breath, her brilliant eyes... so innocuous, so misleading. Her fragile exterior gave no hint as to the power contained within. "I have chosen to be what I am."

"What you are," she said, her own voice becoming quiet but no less robust, "Is a once good man who has become a creature controlled by its own warped ambitions and paralyzing fears."

My cheek twitched slightly as I processed her statement. Though far from an accurate characterization of me, her words had hints of truths that I would rather not admit. "Whatever you believe I am, I have the power to help these people. I am not asking you to join me, or to reshape your ideals. Merely to learn from me, for a few moments, so that the innocent may persevere."

"I have sincere doubts that your motivations are so noble," Rey countered. "But… I want to help them."

Of course she did. I motioned to one of the logs. "Sit down," I instructed. Slowly she complied with my instruction, and I took a seat next to her, close enough that she recoiled slightly. I could sense the revulsion and fear beneath the surface. "You must accept my guidance," I said gently.

"It is not easy to trust the word of a savage killer," she replied.

"I am only what you perceive me to be," I answered. "As is the universe." I turned my eyes from her to the fire crackling before us. "Reach into the flame," I encouraged.

Rey looked unamused. "I have no desire to get burned."

"The flame will be hot only if you choose to perceive it as such," I explained patiently. "If you believe it is harmless, it will be so."

We obvious reluctance she leaned forward so that her short arms could reach the fire. The glow of the flames reflected in her eyes as she regarded it, and then cautiously she reached forward. As her hand entered the fire, the yellow serpents of flame curled around it, passing harmlessly across her skin and reconvening above it. She held steady for several seconds before withdrawing her hand, then turned to me, eyes rising in a mixture of surprise and suspicion. "Did you do that?"

"You know the answer," I said quietly. "Had I intervened, you would have known. My goal is to teach, not deceive." It was rewarding to see her use the Force so effortlessly; the first I had engaged in such an exercise I had spent the night with a bacta wrap on my hand. Perhaps I was a better teacher than Snoke; or perhaps her power was not as untamed as it seemed.

I reached my left hand toward the fire, holding my palm and letting my fingers point skyward. Slowly the tendrils of flame began to mimic my gesture, forming a loose imitation of four fingers and a thumb reaching upwards. As I flexed my hand the orange and red light followed suit, moving to mirror my motions. "You must break with what you have been told. The conceptions they have saddled you with are not the truth; you have the power to make your own reality."

I lowered my hand, and the flame sculpture broke apart, resuming its random pattern. "Never fear your power," I continued. "The universe is imperfect, but the Force has entrusted us with a mechanism to better it. Who are we to question it?"

I immediately regretted my final statement. The awe that had pervaded Rey's mind as I manipulated the fire gave way to concern as she struggled to reconcile my words with the teachings of Skywalker. "Our abilities are not a license to force our will upon others," she said.

I considered her words for several moments, knowing a reluctance to accept her superiority over others would be a point of contention going forward. The fact that the truth directly contradicted the moral and ethical values espoused by her friends made it unlikely any rational argument would help.

"I once had reservations like yours," I admitted, feeling distinctly uncomfortable discussing a past I had tried so hard to forget.

Her expression hardened and she pulled away slightly. "If that is how the darkness changed you, I want no part of it."

"I want to help you Rey," I said, the brutally honest words—and the wave of emotion behind them-surprising both of us. "I can to guide you," I continued, my voice composed and controlled again. "I know you fear the path I have chosen, but I can show you the way and let you choose if you desire to follow."

"Do you think I am so naïve that I do not realize the pull of the Dark Side?" Rey asked.

"Skywalker would never allow you to explore it," I said reflexively, the words rolling off my tongue quickly, my emotions raw and making it difficult to maintain the calmness I desired. "I think you are strong enough," I said, my voice more settled, "to make your own decisions."

Slowly she reached out towards me, but as I went to grasp her outstretched hand I found myself hesitating. I was unsure how well I could defend my own thoughts. Despite my efforts, any connection might allow her access to things I preferred she not see. Things both of the Darkness and the Light, of Kylo Ren and Ben Solo.

"You are worried what I will see in you," she said knowingly. I was quite confident she had not yet entered my thoughts, so I attributed the statement to remarkable perception.

My involuntary downward glance quietly confirmed her supposition. There was no point in denying my concerns further. "I cannot protect my thoughts—protect you from them—and show you what I must. There are things that I have lived, seen, felt… things that would not be good for you to experience through my eyes."

Her face hardened. "I have no desire to see anything other than what I must—in you or anyone else. You don't need to worry about me prying into your mind."

Her eyes were full of baseless resolve, a belief in her ability to withstand what she did not comprehend. For so long she had been sheltered, unaware of the power of anger, rage, hate, and fear. Neither her will nor mine could fully insulate her from the powerful raw emotions that define me. Like it or not, she would see the darkness with a vehemence she could not prepare herself for.

And if what she saw led her to pull away… That was something I could not have.

A/N: I feel like this is the first chance for Rey and Kylo to speak, and hopefully they both continue to be in character. Kylo manipulative and dark, yet afraid. Rey strong willed, brave, and wanting to help others yet inexperienced and unsure what is truly the best path.

As always, thank you for all the faves, follows, views, and reviews!

Special thanks to Alekile, VioletErin.26, Khalthar, Rinter, Fern Haddock, and PricessStarberry for the recent reviews! It's always an inspiration to keep writing!

Thanks again!


	28. Chapter 27

"You are the one who wanted this," Rey reminded me.

She could not understand my hesitation. There is no way to prepare oneself for the Darkness. It is a molten ocean, which moves with the force of the tides and the fury of fire. An indescribable power that cannot be contained. Those who learn its ways manifest the power to control the universe itself, but must also accept the pain, suffering, and anger that define it. Those who choose to oppose it will find exposure to bring nothing but agony and despair.

To let one into my thoughts is to expose them to everything that defines the Dark Side. After years of seeking it guidance and siphoning its power there was no longer a distinction between what I am and the darkness itself. The line that had separated my mind from the void had long since been eradicated.

I am the Darkness.

"Close your eyes," I said gently, once again reaching for her hand. "And brace yourself."

I cupped her small hand in mind, immediately feeling her fingers go rigid as we made a connection neither of us had felt since I had first probed her mind. I inhaled sharply, feeling the light within her course through me, penetrating up my arm before being snuffed out by the insidious shadows within me.

Her breathing had become labored and raspy as she struggled to process a sensation so overwhelming and so alien she could not begin to understand it. "Try to relax," I encouraged. "You must maintain a sense of focus."

"It is madness," she whispered. "You… how do you exist like this?"

"With confidence in my purpose," I replied calmly. "There is no serenity to be found in the darkness. Even in the deepest of mediation the fire within is all-consuming."

I looked at her. Her eyes were moving rapidly beneath closed lids, her skin pulled tight by straining muscles. Her face was moist with sweat. I began to wonder if she possessed the ability to do what I was asking.

With the barriers between us no longer in place, she felt my thoughts clearly. Her eyes burst open. "I can do this," she stated resolutely.

"Close your eyes," I commanded. "Your thoughts must be solely on the task at hand. Your sight is nothing but a distraction."

After a moment of hesitation she did as instructed. I clasped her hand tighter and turned slightly to face her more directly. "Calm your breathing, and reach out through the Force. To those around you. I know you can feel them, but you must see them. Can you do that?"

She offered no response, but what needed to be seen began to coalesce in her mind. The indistinct energy of those around us began to form into discrete points of light, each a mind ripe for the taking.

"Good," I whispered, almost eagerly. "Their thoughts are unguarded. Thus they are now ours." I pushed her mind towards a specific light. "Reach forth—gently. It is preferable not to make our presence known."

"I would not have imagine you'd have any need for such subtlety." The wittiness of her comment was undercut by the obvious strain in her voice.

"What is unseen cannot be opposed," I replied softly. Though I relished the challenge of extracting what I needed from a hostile mind, doing so was time consuming. I also unsure how the distance would impact my capabilities. "Try first to sense his emotions," I instructed. "They are easier to grasp than conscious thoughts."

"I think he lost his family," Rey said, her voice almost choking as the man's raw emotions infected her. "He grieves for them."

"Then we shall let him grieve," I said succinctly as I pushed her towards another mind. "You must try again."

Once more she quickly ascertained the individual—a woman this time—was not a threat. With my guidance she continued to search. She found the process taxing. In addition to the unrelenting bombardment of darkness our connection brought her, she found herself wading through the minds of the devastated. She was faced with the thoughts of those suffering so deeply from loss that their survival was a torment, not a gift.

Her pain was one I was unfamiliar with. A suffering borne on the suffering of others. One day she would shed her empathy; others' pain would then become a source of focus and strength, not a distraction. But that time was far off.

For now, she continued to push forward despite tears that had begun to flow freely from her closed eyes. Her need for my guidance diminished rapidly. Once I was sufficiently confident in her own abilities I slowly released my grasp on her hand.

Her eyes open as our bond dissolved into a tenuous connection. I could feel her presence, but the intimate connection was gone. The wall between us had arisen again.

"Why?" she asked, blinking several times as acclimated herself to the sudden change.

"You are ready to proceed on your own," I said bluntly. "Our search will be faster if we work in parallel."

Rey knew I spoke the truth. Time was a commodity we could not afford to waste, and she now knew what she must to complete the task on her own. What impact it would have on her I could not say. Her compassion made her weak, and the darkness was invasive.

But her beliefs were not easily challenged, and for better or worse her resolve held. Nearly two hours later I felt a wave of surprise, excitement, and caution flow over her. "I think," she whispered, "I think I found one."

Once again I grabbed her hand, and suddenly I could see what she did. A mind flowing with anger and hostility that was not borne out of sorrow or revenge but an overwhelming desire to complete a mission.

"Good," I said. Carefully I let unseen fingers sort through the man's thoughts, but his memories were not so easily revealed. The mind was strong; his motivations and emotions were clear, but other thoughts were more fortified.

"You have done well," I said as I once again broke the connection with Rey. "I could not ascertain a precise position, but I know his general location. And now that I have seen his thoughts-  
I let my lips curl into a small, cruel smile—"I have him."

"We should inform Leia so she can send a team." Rey's expression and tone were businesslike, but tears and sweat on her face betrayed the challenges of the past hours.

"No," I replied firmly. "They will not be able to find him without my continued guidance."

"So we go with them."

"It is a delay," I argued. "And they will only interfere with what I must do."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

I looked up at the dark sky. "He was once mine. He will be so again."

Rey's concern was evident in her expression. "There is no need for you to-"

"There is every need!" I cut her off abruptly. "Do not presume that merely finding them will be sufficient."

"But if they can't broadcast a warning…"

"What if they have a scheduled check-in?" I postulated. "One that requires a specific code or encryption? How do you propose falsifying such a transmission?"

"So you are simply not going to tell Leia what we have found?" Rey protested. "She deserves the truth."

I narrowly avoided laughing, the absurdity of Rey's statement catching me off guard. Leia had hidden everything from me. She had concealed the essence of what I am to serve her own selfish needs and political ambitions. "That woman lives in a web of lies and deceit," I spat. "She deserves _nothing_."

Rey stood abruptly and put several paces between us. "She has done nothing but help you since you arrived. She is the only person in the Galaxy that actually believes in you. And you just—"

"That is ENOUGH," I roared, tired of her continued reverence for a woman whose few redeeming qualities were vastly outweighed by the terrible truths that no one but I seemed willing to acknowledge. The wave of fury quickly subsided. "You do not understand," I observed calmly, "how I could resent what you see as a loving family."

"You gave up the only thing I ever truly wanted to serve evil," Rey responded, "I don't want to understand."

I looked down, realizing that my face was betraying the sudden sensation of sadness I was feeling. "You idealize what you never had, and demonize what you do not understand." Forcing the emotion aside, I refocused my gaze on her. "But for now we have a task to accomplish."

A/N: Slightly shorter than the last few chapters, but hopefully still entertaining!

As always, thank you for the follow, reviews, views, and favs! It is always awesome to hear from you!


	29. Chapter 28

"We do," she agreed, starting to walk back towards the command center. On foot the journey would take several minutes that we did not have.

"I do not understand your insistence. I simply propose to accomplish what must be done to protect the innocent."

"Your only goal is to protect yourself," Rey countered.

"Motivations are irrelevant," I replied tersely. "We are defined by our actions and judged by our results."

"Leia's orders were clear. We locate them, and report back to her."

My eyebrows raised slightly. "I received no such instructions." I turned away from her. "Even if I had, I am under no obligation to follow them."

"She trusted you enough to let me to help you," Rey answered.

I looked back at her. "No… you trusted her," I said smoothly. "You believed she would watch out for you." I tilted my head to the right. "Yet where is she?"

A flash of confusion went through Rey's mind, echoed by her facial expression. Her focus on our search had closed off her senses beyond that specific task; the girl had not even noticed her protector's departure. "I'm sure she had something important to do," Rey argued.

"She always did," I said, decades of antipathy leaching into my voice.

Rey frowned. "General Organa dedicated her life to bettering the Galaxy. That might be difficult for a child to grasp, but how can you still not understand?"

"Is that what you see?" I asked, stepping closer to her. She tried to move backwards, but found that the Force had bound her feet in place. "A petulant child that holds a grudge against parents that were never there?" I stopped only centimeters from her, lowering my head to meet her eyes. "The absence was almost inconsequential," I whispered slowly. "It was their deceit. It was their fear."

I broke away, walking several paces. "You are wrong," I continued. "She never trusted me when I considered myself her son. She certainly does not trust me now."

"If that were true, you would be in a cell."

"She allows her emotions to cloud her judgement. That is not the same as trust."

"We must inform Leia," Rey replied firmly.

"Your instructions are to report the location of our targets, something we do not yet have. We will ascertain the precise location of the First Order troops, at which point you may contact Leia and advise her to send a team." I left it unsaid that I had no intention of waiting for such a team to arrive before taking action. Rey most likely understood this as well, but recognized her refusal of my terms would lead me to proceed without her.

"Very well," she responded sourly.

"There is a speeder half a kilometer south of here," I informed her. It was a useful bit of information I had acquired from one of the minds I had investigated. "We should be able to find our target easily."

"Who's is it?" she asked as she fell into step behind me.

"I do not know," I said, suppressing my frustration. "I doubt the owner would take issue with its use in the fight against the First Order."

"No, I suppose not," Rey said. "It would not be the first time I commandeered a vessel for that reason."

"The _Millennium Falcon_ ," I said quietly, the cadence of my step breaking almost imperceptibly as the unpleasant memories flooded my mind. "I intend to see to its destruction."

"Surely a Master of the Dark Side would not hold a vendetta against a _ship_ ," Rey said, almost teasingly.

I ignored her comment. The _Falcon_ had been the pride and joy of Han Solo: that alone was sufficient reason to see it turned to ash.

The old Ulax 62 we came upon appeared to be abandoned. The layer of dirt and grime on it was disturbing, as was the apparent growth of some kind red fungus inside the port air intake. A vessel in such condition should be subjected to an intensive inspection prior to use, but there was no time.

"Can you bypass the security locks?" I asked.

Silently Rey opened a panel just below the canopy, quickly disconnecting and reconnecting half a dozen wires. The entry motor strained for a moment—its seals had not been opened in so long they resisted the motor's effort. Finally the one-piece clear canopy broke free and I reluctantly allowed Rey to take the pilot's seat.

Strapping in beside her, I carefully watched as she brought the speeder's systems online. Despite the thin layer of dust covering every interior surface, all indications suggested the aging ship was operating properly. Thirty seconds later the vessel was ready for flight and Rey carefully eased it into a hover. The drive motor protested with a hideous screech, but with no indication of imminent failure we set off in the direction of my prey.

Vague sensations amalgamated into concrete images as we got closer. Their hiding location was soon revealed to be a complex of low-income housing, several parallel rows of three story wooden buildings. The size of the facility suggested housing for six or seven hundred individuals, but I sensed only fifty or so.

As we descended it became apparent more than half the buildings were unoccupied and in various states of disrepair. One appeared to have caught fire and never been repaired while others had simply given in to the ravages of the elements. It was a perfect place to hole up: enough activity and people that a few new additions would not arouse suspicion and large enough to provide multiple hiding spots.

Several old speeders were parked in a row south of one of the better preserved buildings, and Rey carefully maneuvered the Ulax 62 into position next to them. Our ageing ride fit in well with the collection of dirty, obsolete vehicles in the parking area and our landing attracted very little attention.

As Rey shut down the engines I exited the cockpit and let my mind flow towards the village. The mind I had touched before was closer now, fatigued and nervous but steadfast and determined. I could also sense his companion. They were close now, and I was tempted to simply end their existence. A hint of a smile formed on my lips as I thought about it: the men would suddenly find their windpipes collapsing, or their skulls cracking, or their spines-

"I'll contact Leia," Rey said, interrupting my thoughts. I wondered if she had seen them.

"Very well," I said quietly, setting off towards the building.

"Where are you going?" she demanded. As if she did not know.

I stopped and turned back to her. "First Order operatives are perceptive. It is only a matter of time before they notice our presence."

"Considering you're the most conspicuously dressed person on the planet," Rey replied tersely as I resumed walking towards the building. She quickly relayed the coordinates we were at to the Resistance base before sprinting to catch up with me.

There were a few people outside, and Rey was correct: My attire lacked subtlety that would have been desirable for such an operation. But it was not a problem. These wretched souls had far more important concerns than the strangers passing through, what little interest they had in us was easily pushed aside with the simplest of mental manipulation.

As I observed their misery I felt a strange sensation, an inexplicable desire to help them. It took a moment for me to realize that thoughts were not my own, but Rey's powerful compassion radiating like a solar wind.

I stopped and looked at her. "You sympathize with these people," I observed.

"How can you not?" she asked.

"This is freedom," I said, ignoring her question. "This poverty and destitution is the result of choices made by free men and aliens who have no regard for these lives."

"Are you suggesting a galactic dictatorship would be _better_ for these people?" Rey asked incredulously. "The First Order has no humanity. Snoke has no desire to help anyone."

"But whoever wields ultimate power can determine how to use it," I said. Before she responded, I pointed at an entryway thirty meters ahead. "They are in there."

"General Organa's reinforcements won't be here for at least ten minutes."

My lips curled into a smug smirk. "That gives us sufficient time to introduce ourselves."'

A/N: Another fairly short chapter. But the next one is shaping up to be longer, and as you can imagine a visit from an angry Kylo Ren is not going to be fun for anyone… except _maybe_ Kylo.

Thank you for the reviews, faves, follows, and views!


	30. Chapter 29

The two First Order operatives may have been well trained, but it still took them nearly a second to react to my unexpected arrival: it was more than enough time to negate any threat they posed. I reached out almost casually through the Force, and their weapons were torn from their hands before they could even be brought to a firing position.

The larger of the men reached for a sleeve-mounted knife and charged. I sidestepped his first attack easily. His own inertia, combined with push through the Force, resulted in him impacting the wall head-first. The blow was not sufficient to appreciably damage his skull, but the force rocked his head backward and I heard the sharp snapping of cartilage as his nose shattered against the concrete.

His broken nose wept blood, but the man returned to his full height and took a fighting stance. He started to charge at me again, but found himself frozen in place, terror racing through his mind as he hastily began to understand I was a far more dangerous threat than he was prepared to face.

With the large man temporarily restrained, I turned to the other operative. He had cowardly backed himself against a cupboard, letting the large man take the brunt of the initial attack. A lithe young man, he returned my gaze with cold, calculating eyes that suggested more intelligence and cunning than his partner. "You know who I am," I said calmly.

"I have a guess," he said, his confident voice laced with the erudite and haughty accent of a fleet officer. "They did not describe what you looked like behind the mask." He spoke with the practiced inflection and condescension that some spent their career's trying to perfect. Given the man's young age, that suggested he had been born into the aristocracy, most likely the son of a senior military officer.

"Most likely they did not know." I stepped forward, careful to ensure my grip on the larger man remained firm. "Very few in the First Order have seen my face." Those that had were either the most senior of First Order leaders; the few troops who had observed me without my mask on Starkiller base were now particles of cosmic dust, much like the super weapon itself. "You are in rare company now."

"Apparently the company of your resistance friends," he scoffed, his eyes flickering to Rey.

"Do not believe what you have been told," I replied. "They desire my blood as much as Snoke."

"Either way you are a traitor, and you will be dealt with accordingly."

I found myself compelled to chuckle quietly. "By you?" I tightened my grasp on his partner, causing the gasp raggedly for air. "By him?"

"The Supreme Leader will find a way." The words were almost reverent, as if the man was in awe of the power and knowledge Snoke possessed.

I took another step towards him. He was shorter than me by several centimeters, just under average height. "The Galaxy is changing. Those who fail to change with it shall be cast aside. Those who oppose it…"

"The Supreme Leader is the change you speak off," the man said with a confidence that was fully reflected in his thoughts. For a brief moment my mind flickered backward to when I had stood on the other side of the same conversation.

 _The Supreme Leader is wise._

I felt a cold chill settle across me.

 _He's using you._

I licked my lips to hide their twitching. The officer did not notice my reaction, but I could sense Rey's surprise as she felt my surge of emotion.

I bit down on the inside of my lip, feeling the calming influence of the pain flow through me. It helped, but it was not enough. Like a Rancor that had tasted flesh, I found my need for suffering and pain suddenly insatiable. Behind me Rey shivered as my dark energy flowed through the room, wrapping around me like an icy cloak. Resisting the urge to intercede she turned away, but she did not need her eyes to see.

My expression darkened, my eyes boring into the target before me. "Did they tell you what I am capable of?" The man glared at me but did not respond. I stepped closer to him, looking down on his forehead and letting my breath flow across his hair. "Every thought you have… every breath… every heartbeat. I can feel it. I see everything that you are. And I can end it at will." I bit out the last words, lacing my voice with malice.

The man looked up to meet my gaze, trying furiously to maintain his confidence. But his eyes were filled with the cold deadness of a man facing his demise. "I can feel your terror," I continued. "It flows from you like blood from a wounded animal."

"Do as you like to me, traitor," the man spat. "In my death you seal your own fate. When I don't report in the First Order will come to find out why." He struggled to take a breath, trying to calm himself. "I am willing to die for the First Order."

My lips curled into a sinister smile. "But," I replied, leaning down to whisper in his ear, "Are you willing to live?" Abruptly the Force pushed the man against the wall a meter behind him; I took a single long step forward, reaching out with my left hand to grasp his throat. "I find that there are two kinds of people who oppose me: those that beg for mercy, and those that plead for death."

I turned to look at Rey. "Restrain the other one," I commanded.

"Not so that you can-"

"Restrain him or I will kill him _now_ ," I cut her off angrily. Reluctantly she grabbed binding wire from a table and began securing the large man's arms and legs. When I was satisfied he was no longer a threat, I brought my full attention back to the officer that remained in my grasp.

I raised my right hand, letting my open palm hover just above his scalp. With a burst of energy I was in his mind, tearing through thoughts, memories, and emotions. My eyes moved rapidly beneath closed eyelids, reflexively following my unseen hands as I scoured the officer's mind.

The young man struggled, so I clamped down harder on his throat with my gloved hand. I could feel his muscles struggling against my grip, but between my physical strength and my willing of the Force he had no chance to escape. He began to shake, the trauma of what I was doing decimating his nervous system and causing uncontrollable tremors.

His agony was exquisite.

Rey's shriek in the outside world was like an echo, and at first I ignored it. But suddenly she was there as well, retarding my progress and shielding the man from me. In frustration I broke away, letting the First Order officer's nearly limp body fall to the floor. Blood was running from his nose, and his head teetered slowly back and forth as he struggled to remain conscious.

I turned to Rey, my eyes filled with rage at her impudence. "We do not have time for your childish notions," I snapped. "There is no other way."

"I might believe that," she replied between heavy breaths, "If you weren't enjoying it so much."

I opened my mouth to protest, but realized any argument I made would be ineffectual. She was not speculating: she could feel my taking solace in the man's suffering. "What matters is that I can acquire what we need."

"Not if it means torture," she said.

"He was telling the truth. If a routine report is not submitted, all of our efforts to this point will have been for nothing. The First Order will return, and this entire world will burn."

Rey's face tightened slightly as she clenched her jaw. Her frustration was palpable, and despite the inconvenience I was quietly pleased at her confliction. Once again she saw the teachings of the Jedi as an obstacle to the preservation of life, how reliance on the light blinded one to the realities of the universe. It was more than just a lesson, as her determination would have real life consequences. If she elected to support me, I still had time to ascertain the information we needed. If she chose to oppose the population of an entire world could turn to ash.

"There has to be a better way," she said, her eyes sad yet burning with hope. "You want me to believe in your power. Show it to me, but with compassion."

I blinked, unsure how to respond. She was not asking, nor was she demanding. She was pleading for an alternative that would thread the path between light and dark. Hers was a foolish request, yet the emotion behind it drove me to contemplate alternatives.

"A closed mind is not pried open with kindness," I said. "There will be pain, but…" I trailed off, unsure if I wanted to continue. Never before had I been asked to consider the mind I was penetrating. The well-being of my subject had never been important: permanent injury or death were immaterial; only the acquisition of what I desired mattered. Anything less than resolute pursuit of the goal was an admission of weakness.

But, in this case, perhaps it was adaptability. I could oppose her empathy and charge ahead, dealing with her resistance as I went, or I could comply with her request and seek the information unopposed. "There are techniques I have used to alleviate the pain of those being tortured for the purpose of keeping them conscious," I said. "I may be able to reduce his suffering using them."

Rey's expression did not change, but I felt her relax ever so slightly. "Try." I contemplated calling attention to the fact that the Jedi master Yoda had manifestly condemned the concept of trying. 'Do or Do Not' were words I had heard from young age.

I had used the technique on occasion during conventional interrogations. It permitted continued examination even when their senses were overwhelmed. I had never considered it as a means to relieve suffering; merely as a tool to mitigate agony in such a manner that it could be prolonged. Applying it on compassionate grounds was something I had never attempted, so perhaps try was indeed an appropriate term.

I turned my attention back to the officer. He had weakly propped himself up against the cabinet and I opened my right palm towards his forehead while resting my left hand on his shoulder.

The agony of my previous assault still flooded through him, and trepidation of what was coming next nearly debilitating. I took his pain, letting some flow harmlessly back to the Force and using the rest to strengthen myself. He groaned softly as the relief rolled through his body.

He whispered something I could not understand. I leaned down further, my ear near his mouth. "It doesn't matter now," he rasped.

The defenses in his head began to fall away. Exhausted, his resistance crumbled, and I found myself searching his thoughts unopposed.

Releasing my hold on him, I turned to Rey. "Epsilon Six Two. That is the cipher they are using."

Rey seemed more interested in the man on the floor, his body convulsing in pain now that I was not actively suppressing it. "Are you just going to leave him like that?"

I frowned. "It is a better fate than he deserves," I replied. "Your friends can treat him when they arrive if they are so inclined. For now we must find their equipment and prepare a transmission."

 _It doesn't matter now…_ I felt my blood cool as I came to the sudden realization. It was note merely fatigue that had caused him to give his thoughts freely to me. He had done something that had made him willing to stop fighting my probe. Stepping across his still quivering body I ripped open the cupboard he had been next to.

Inside I found a charred circuit board. I instantly recognized it as an encryption matrix, a modular piece of technology that allowed various types of transmitters and receivers to use First Order codes. The discoloration suggested it had been deliberately overloaded using the self-destruct button on the board.

It had been the key to sending the message that would save Ultan. It was now useless.

A/N: A normal size chapter, and under a week after the previous one!

As you can imainge, Kylo is none too happy about this turn of events. If the First Order officer thought a mind probe was tough he is about to get a very unpleasant surprise!

As always, thank you for the review, faves, follows, and views!


	31. Chapter 30

The harsh coldness of failure burned within me, and I swallowed conspicuously in an effort to arrest the bile rising in my throat. I remained focused on the device, not wanting to turn and permit Rey an opportunity to see my stunned face. How had I failed to anticipate this? Why did I not see hints of his actions when I probed his mind? It was disturbing, and inexcusable. It was a demonstration of weakness, a weakness that could come from only one place…

I had once again given in to indecision and confusion, sacrificing of the certainty my training to consider the desires of others. It caused me once again experience the cruel and unrelenting pull of the light. I had nearly eradicated it: only the smoldering embers had remained. But Rey and Leia's unrelenting efforts had fanned the flames mercilessly, and once again I found myself being torn. And once again I saw how feeble the light made me.

It was an error I would correct immediately.

I turned back to the man, the tempest within awakening once more. The flame of the light was gone, replaced by a cold, dark fire that radiated outward uncontrollably. Hints of blue electricity began to dance across my fingers as my fury surpassed what my physical form could contain.

I reached down, my gloved fingers wrapping around the man's neck and pulling his ailing body of the floor. His throat muscles strained against my hand, fighting my grasp in a desperate struggle for air. I savored the sensation, gradually tightening my hold to further constrict his airflow. To choke someone with the Force was empowering, but there is nothing quite like the tactile feeling as you slowly drain the life from another with the simple, physical strength of your own hands.

Still, a quick death was more than the man deserved. When it was time I would crush his throat, but first he would pay for his impudence. Behind me Rey was yelling, but I was uninterested in her protestations. She would see what happened when she interfered with the Dark Side.

Force Lightning is a skill so powerful and challenging only the greatest of the Sith Lords had ever truly mastered it. I had found it manifesting itself on rare occasions, a consequence of unspeakable and unrestrained rage. While could not create it purely at will, my rudimentary control was more than adequate when in physical contact with my victim.

Holding the officer in place with my right hand, I placed my left on his forehead, letting the Force Lightning that was sporadically emerging from my fingers radiate through his skull. It started slowly, the young man feeling a strange tingling that was more terrifying than painful. But gradually the pain grew in intensity, the caustic power ravaging his brain. He screamed in agony as cavities of fluid within his head began to boil, then the cells themselves began to rupture.

I inhaled sharply, savoring the sharp anguish of my victim. His mind could comprehend nothing but suffering, all other aspects of reality pushed aside pain. Blood began to flow freely from his eyes and nose, mixing with an uncontrollable stream of tears and mucus as his physical form continued to deteriorate. I clamped down harder on his throat, the pleasant cracking of bone radiating warmly through my palm as his trachea began to give way. I was careful to restrain myself: it was not yet time to end this.

His skin began to darken and break apart. Thin red wounds broke open, whip-like lacerations that wept with strangely colored blood. As they connected sections of the outer skin layer began to slough away, revealing the bright red dermis below. The portions of his face that remained intact became a hideous canvas of welts, blisters, and cuts.

And then I found my hand pulled away. The lightning continued to mover across my fingers, but it curved away from the First Order officer and dissipated into space. Realizing what was happening I turned abruptly. "How dare you interfere!" I snarled in an almost animalistic manner.

Rey's teeth were clenched, her expression firm but controlled. "This is wrong and you know it."

I ignored her and turned back to the man, mentally preparing myself to push through her resistance.

"Kylo!" she exclaimed. "We need to focus on what's next. We don't have time for revenge."

I looked back at her. Did she realize what had occurred, the weakness she had elicited in me? "Revenge may be all I have left," I rasped.

Her brow furrowed. "You are many things, Kylo Ren, but I never suspected you would be a defeatist."

I glared at her. "Your weakness has brought destruction to these people!" I yelled. "Your compassion for this man may become the instrument of your own destruction!"

The sound of a landing shuttlecraft cut through my thoughts. Rey's friends had arrived.

I let the First Order officer go and turned my full attention to Rey. "Those who will not accept their strength find themselves at the feet of those who do. You do not understand how the Galaxy works, you do not understand power." I took another step towards her. "So instead you apply ill-defined concepts like morality. You lack the conviction to do what must be done, so you haughtily proclaim that your beliefs must be respected by others. It is arrogance and ignorance masquerading as righteousness."

"Simmer down, Kylo," Dameron said from the doorway. He walked in followed by half a dozen troops. Dameron's eyes wandered first to the restrained man, then to the tortured visage of the other Officer. "What happened here?" he asked.

Rey spoke up immediately. "He destroyed a device we need to ward off a First Order attack, so Kylo tortured him."

Dameron looked back to the First Order operative, suppressing a wave of nausea as he studied the man's burned and bloodied face. He motioned to one of the troops. "Get him to a medic. We'll question him later; he's been through enough for now."

Two of Dameron's troops grabbed the officer, thin layers of flesh falling away from his face as they moved him. His partially conscious body left a trail of blood as it was removed. I locked eyes with the man just before he was lifted out of view. Our business was delayed, not completed.

"So we were unsuccessful?" Dameron asked.

I turned back to him. "My interrogation of the prisoner was interrupted, allowing him to destroy an encryption device."

Dameron looked puzzled. "I thought the goal was to keep them from broadcasting a warning?"

"We discovered they need to send routine status reports," Rey answered. "Kylo was trying to get what he needed to send a fake one."

"I successfully 'got what I needed,'" I said. My words were quiet but laced with vitriol, my desire to cut them down where they stood nearly overwhelming. But despite their impudence, I knew I still needed them. Especially her. "Your interference gave _my_ prisoner the opportunity to destroy the equipment I needed."

"I cannot simply turn my back on what is right because you find it inconvenient," Rey snapped.

I began to respond, but Dameron spoke first. "So the First Order is coming?"

"Possibly," Rey said. "But we don't know what they will bring, or when it will arrive. It isn't like they have any specific information to go on."

I considered her words for a moment, clenching my teeth. They were naïve at best, and self-delusional at worst. The First Order's initial attack had comprised of a force three aging Mon Calamari Cruisers could not hope to defeat; the next assault would inevitably comprise of even greater firepower. Even in the unlikely event the First Order response was modest, it was a certainty reinforcements would be nearby. "It is nearly certain the force will exceed the capacity of your ships to resist."

Dameron frowned. "Your always a source of good news. We need to notify General Organa and begin making preparations."

"What preparations do you propose?" I asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Dameron answered candidly. "But we'll think of something. We always do."

"Of course you do," I said coldly.

Dameron began to work for the door, hesitating for a moment as he felt the soft give of flesh beneath his boot. He cringed noticeably as he realized his foot now rested on what had been a man's face only moments before. "Come on: my shuttle will take us all back to the base."

I silently fell into step behind him, followed by Rey. No longer concerned with stealth, the pilot of the old _Lambda_ class shuttle had settled the craft directly next to the building, its folded white wings towering over the structure. Rey and I sat across an aisle from each other in the passenger compartment while Dameron walked to the cockpit to confer with his commander.

The engines began powering up as the ramp retracted and the poorly maintained inertial dampers failed to shield us from the vessel's abrupt acceleration. It was immediately apparent that the shuttle was on a trajectory to exit the atmosphere. Contrary to what Dameron had said, we were not heading back to the base.

"Change of plans," Dameron said, emerging from the cockpit. "General wants everyone spaceside, we will be meeting her and her staff aboard the _Emancipator._ "

"Is she planning to withdraw?" Rey asked with a hint of disbelief.

"I doubt it. Just gives us some options if the Order shows up before we figure out how best to take them." He shifted his stare to me. "If you have anything to share, this would be the time."

I raised an eyebrow. "Rest assured I will not withhold information beneficial to my survival."

"Now that I believe," the pilot replied. "We should be docking in about eighteen minutes." His eyes wandered back to Rey. "Are you OK back here with…"

Rey nodded. "I'll be fine Poe… but thank you."

"I'll check in with you when we arrive," Dameron said before returning to the cockpit.

For several seconds Rey and I sat in silence, separated by a meter wide aisle and a far more substantial ideological divide. Finally Rey looked pointedly at me. "If you are waiting for me to admit some kind of wrongdoing, it is not going to happen."

"How can you be so confident? The results of your actions have not yet become evident."

"Because what you did to that man… no one deserves that."

A/N: So this ended up getting pretty dark, but let's face it: Kylo isn't the type to hold back!

I know my interpretation of Force Lightning here isn't strictly cannon, but I isn't not cannon either as best I can tell! Seeing as not all users of the Dark side made use of it, it made sense that it was a higher-order skill and thus something Kylo would aspire to. Naturally anger and hate would help him in this goal.

As always, thank you for the faves, follows, reviews, and views!


	32. Chapter 31

I snorted. "And had I been able to search his mind unimpeded, the need to punish him may not have arisen."

"You would not willingly restrain your own cruelty," she replied. "I could feel the darkness flowing from you. That perverse pleasure you find in the suffering of others. It could not be tolerated."

"What you view as perversion is the means by which I could save this world." I turned briefly towards the back of the shuttle, where I could sense the captured operatives, withering in pain and fear. "What possible reservations could you have to his suffering?"

"The same ones that you do."

I blinked in confusion as her irrational statement caught me off guard. "Do not be absurd."

"You must realize the truth. I could see it when we were connected. There is more to you than I ever imagined, more than I can understand. But rather than face it, you choose to wallow in hate and anger."

"Your insights are of such interest to me," I said dismissively.

"When I brought up the _Falcon_ —I could feel the pain. The loss. Emotions I never knew you had… never thought you could have."

"Emotions are transcendental manifestations," I replied firmly. "They are meaningless, inconsequential distractions from our true purpose."

"And you feel them more than anyone I have ever known," she replied.

I glanced over at her briefly before returning my gaze to the floor. There was no point in denying her words: I had let down my defenses, and she had felt what radiated through me with the intensity of a thousand suns. She had seen something she could not yet understand. The strange mixture of pain and pride that was slowly strangling my soul, the agonizing burden I was forced to bear. Yet that which I most desired to discard stoked my power, a malevolent furnace of indecision and suffering that allowed the Dark Side to course through my veins.

"I cannot deny the event continues to elicit powerful emotions," I said. It was a cruel irony that what was supposed to free me from these lingering feelings continued to feed them. "Any event of such magnitude has lasting repercussions… in the Force, and in those involved. But they are reflections of the past. They have no meaning to me now."

"You think it makes you weak," she said quietly. "That doubt you have. That sadness. But what if that is the Force's way of telling you something? Couldn't it be a message?"

I pursed my lips for a moment, unsure how to make her understand. "My destiny is known to me," I answered. "Your connection with the Force may be strong, but do not presume you understand it. I know what I am meant to do, and I have no desire and no reason to change it."

"How can you say that with such certainty? Because _Snoke_ told you?" she asked skeptically. "You accept his words as gospel, yet you ignore your own family?"

The mention of them sent a wave of resentment through my chest. "Snoke has given me more of value than my parents or Skywalker ever did," I countered bitterly.

Rey was silent for several seconds, caught off guard by my sudden hostility. "And now," she said slowly, "he wants you dead."

I shrugged. "Such are the ways of the Dark Side."

"And that is the way you want to be? Someone driven by rage and ambition?"

"Ambition is the impetus of progress," I reminded her.

"Someone who only views others as tools, who has no regard for anything but their own power?"

"One can choose to either be the master or the servant," I continued, "Any other role is an illusion."

Rey shook her head. "You know that is not true. Even the man you most idolize eventually realized the error of his ways."

"Skywalker has told you his stories," I mused.

"He told me the truth. That Darth Vader – Anakin Skywalker – sacrificed himself for his son." She looked down, then locked eyes with me. "Just like Han Solo did."

I had already steeled myself to her words, knowing she would attempt to play on my emotions again. Still, what she said felt like shard of ice penetrating my soul. My impassive expression turned frigid. "Someone of your limited experience with the Force should not presume to understand the actions of a Sith Lord."

"I'm talking about the love of a father."

"Something else of which you have no comprehension," I replied, struggling to keep my voice calm and level despite an unconscious trembling.

She paused for a moment, my words stirring deep feelings of abandonment. I noticed her eyes were beginning to water slightly. "You must know he would have done anything he could to help you," Rey offered. "I don't know what he did to hurt you, but he wanted nothing more than to see you happy."

I inhaled sharply through clenched teeth. "Such things were never his priority," I seethed.

"But that is what I can't understand," Rey countered. "Whether it was is priority, whatever he did or didn't do… you have the ability to see past that." She leaned across the aisle. "You didn't need him to show you how felt: you could see it. You knew what he believed, _that he loved you_."

The words hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity. A stream of poignant and painful memories flooded into my mind, images of a previous life where I had smiled and cried. A life before the all-consuming inferno. I felt a single tear on my right cheek, a sensation I had not felt in several years. Finally I composed myself enough to answer her without melancholy lacing my words. "Love is not enough," I said quietly. "Love is never enough."

"What else can he give you but everything?" Rey asked softly, reaching across the aisle and putting her hand on my leg.

"A father should believe in his son," I said quickly and quietly. "Even when others do not. Without reservation." I drew a long breath. "But he was too afraid of what I would become." For a moment I held her stare, my eyes wet and uncertain as I found myself confused by my sudden candor. These were things I had never said to another. Thoughts that had been forced to the deepest recesses of my mind for years rushed forward. "He expected... I don't know really," I said quietly. "He wanted something else. Something I was never destined to be."

I looked down and brushed a gloved hand across my face in attempt to discreetly wipe aside the errant tears that had formed. "He claimed his absence was because of other commitments. But that was an excuse. A lie. He wanted to be elsewhere because he could not accept what I am."

Rey opened her mouth slightly, seemingly taken aback by my honesty. "I'm sorry" she said, squeezing my leg gently.

"The darkness has been a part of me from my first breath," I continued. "To despise it is to despise me." My voice was noticeably higher than usual, and trembled slightly. Even to my own ears it sounded weak. I swallowed in disgust, infuriated at my prolonged display of weakness. I could feel my thoughts morph from ones of despair to anger, resentment, and hate. My expression turned icy as the familiar pull of darkness settled across me once again. I closed my eyes, seeking solace in the cold, dark fire I had come to call home. "Thus I proved it to him unequivocally."

Rey shrank back as she felt the darkness embrace me. "You don't need to resist the light."

"There is no light bright enough to banish the blackness from my heart," I answered stoically.

"Until today I would have believed that," Rey said.

I looked straight ahead, rapidly losing interest in the conversation. My emotions once again under control I had no desire to allow her to see further weakness. "I once believed in fantasies as well. But I then saw the truth."

"No," Rey said softly. "You don't."

Slowly I turned back to her, my lower lip quivering in anger at her presumptuous statement. "You think a brief glimpse into my mind gives you the ability—the _right_ —to try and understand me?"

"I may not understand, but you do not either… at least, you don't want to."

"What I do not want is to embrace the failure and weakness of my past!" I swallowed, my rage once again subsiding as more rational thought took over. "It is immaterial. I have reached the depths of the void: there is no return."

"Vader once told Luke it was too late," Rey contradicted me. "There is no point of no return. No sin is unforgiveable, no act irredeemable." Her lips clamped shut as she fought off another wave of despondency. "Han gave everything he could," she continued, her voice trembling. "He fell to his death still believing that his Son would be happy one day. But it falls to you to decide what you want to make of his sacrifice."

A/N: This was interesting to write, the longest "thoughtful" Kylo section so far. I think we all know the demons beneath the surface are very complex… Rey is starting to learn that now as well!

As always, thank you for the faves, follows, and views!

Special thanks to those who have taken the time to review: PrincessStarberry, Fern Haddock, Khalthar, Jellybean, and Dreamer I love getting your feedback and insight, and I am especially grateful to those who have taken the time to chime in repeatedly as the story evolves. It is fun to have some folks join me on this "journey"! Thank you!


	33. Chapter 32

Leia and Major Parsons were waiting for Rey, Dameron, and myself as we emerged from the shuttle. The hangar bay was a hive of activity with maintenance crews scrambling to get the assortment of rundown starfighters ready for combat.

"We've called for reinforcements," Parsons said. He looked at me. "What kind of response can we expect from the First Order?"

I pressed my lips together in thought for a moment. "I am not aware of any established protocol for such a situation."

"What would you do?" Parsons pressed.

I frowned. "Anything I say would be speculation."

"Your speculation is the best intel we've got," Dameron interjected.

"Special forces are ruthlessly loyal and rarely fail in their mission."

"Unless someone has the skills to find them," Leia offered.

"It is possible they will suspect the presence of a Force user. More likely, their commander will simply assume the Resistance arrived with overwhelming Force."

"But that doesn't mean they will respond," Parsons said. "The initial attack was a hit and fade."

"Unless the goal was to draw us out," Rey countered. "Either our ships or certain people." Her eyes drifted to Leia. "The Empire was not above such tactics."

"An elegant trap is hardly a reprehensible tactic," I protested.

"Except when thousands of innocent lives are lost in the process," Rey replied forcefully.

Leia sensed the rising tensions and raised her left hand. "I realize this is sudden and we all need some time to get our thoughts together," Leia said. "Still, time is limited. I'd like all of you to join me in tactical room two in fifteen minutes."

Her officers nodded in agreement and headed off to their respective areas of responsibility, leaving Leia, Rey, and I standing together in the bay. Leia's face softened slightly, and she favored us with the slightest of smiles. "I appreciate your efforts," she said, addressing both of us, "You did all you could."

"No," I said sourly, "We did not."

The smile disappeared. "Poe gave me a briefing from the shuttle. I don't consider torture an option. You did what you could given—"

"I _could_ have taken what we required," I interrupted.

"At what cost?" Leia asked. "What is the point of fighting if you become what you are fighting against?"

"What is the point of fighting if you refuse to do what it takes to win?" I countered. "You encumber yourself with restrictions that result in the death of brave warriors for no reason but the preservation of your ridiculous ideals."

"Like it or not, you're stuck with those ideals now. Unless you want to go back to Snoke."

I was caught off-guard for a moment: Leia had no intention of facilitating my return to the First Order, so I did not interpret the statement as a threat. Instead, it was a not so subtle reminder that the freedom of action I had enjoyed as a leader of the First Order had been somewhat… curtailed. "You will drown in your own good intentions," I answered softly.

"It is a risk we take to do what we know is right," Leia said resolutely.

"I prefer to accept only those risks which have a purpose."

"Your purpose is the accumulation of power," Rey interjected, seeming to surprise Leia slightly. "Ours is to help others." Her eyes narrowed, brimming with intensity. "And you know that. You understand. And you hate yourself for not being able to embrace it."

"I hate that I even consider it," I snapped, realizing instantly I had said too much. For a split second my eyes opened wide in surprise as the shame of my failure to control myself burned through me. In my zeal to contradict her I had admitted to weakness.

Leia knew what I once was. She had sensed the turmoil. But to hear the words spoken aloud that some insignificant, trivial piece of the light still pulled at me brought a glimmer of hope into her sad eyes. After days of seeking something to validate her belief in me, she grasped onto the vague comment as if it was a full confession.

I hissed softly, trying to come up with some statement that would clarify my words without sounding like a hasty cover, but failed to do so.

"Just know we are hear for you," Leia said softly. "Maybe I don't understand. Maybe I never will. But you know what is right. My son knows what is—"

"I AM NOT YOUR SON!" It was a painful, high-pitched shriek that left my throat as tortured as my soul. Around me people stopped work, their eyes drawn to the strange spectacle playing out in the hangar bay. I inhaled deeply and turned away.

Leia stepped closer. "You never liked to look me in the eyes when you were angry."

I turned back to her, glaring at her with years of hate and resentment. "If that were true, you would have never seen my eyes," I replied.

Leia's looked dejected, and her eyes struggling to hold back tears. "I never knew how unhappy you were. I didn't understand."

"It is hard to perceive something when you are never there," I replied.

"You're right," she said softly, stepping closer to me and reaching up to place her hand on my cheek. I pulled away before she could. She glanced downward and lowered her hand reluctantly. "I've made tremendous mistakes. I dedicated my life to the fight against tyranny and oppression, and I was so involved in that conflict that I failed the person I was fighting for."

"Your failures are not limited to me," I said darkly. I closed my eyes for a moment, fighting for a sense of calm. For all my protestations, her words continued to kindle the light within me. Once more I grasped a piece of my lip between my molars, discretely biting down until the soothing metal taste of blood began to run across my tongue. The pain helped bring focus.

A chirping comm link interrupted Leia before she could reply. "Yes Major," she said, her voice strained but professional. "The councilor made the request directly with the Republic forces?" she asked, pausing again as she listened to the reply. "I suppose it is good he did, but it complicates things." Another pause. "Hopefully in time. Organa out."

"What was that?" Rey inquired.

Leia turned back to us, brow furrowed. "Reinforcements will be here sooner than expected."

Rey's could sense Leia's concern. "You don't look happy about that…"

Leia grimaced. "Councilor Hahmes apparently notified the New Republic Ben was here; the ship was originally dispatched to take him into custody, not to defend against the First Order."

Rey looked confused. "But… he's your prisoner… defector… whatever. He is under your control and protection." I resisted the urge to snort at the presumption I was somehow under Leia's control.

"There may be a legal precedent for a transfer of custody because the request came directly from the Councilor while we were on his soil," Leia said. "But the truth is they fear him so much they won't leave empty handed."

I inclined my head slightly. "You suggest they would threaten you to acquire me as a prisoner."

Leia slowly shook her head. "The remnants of the New Republic are struggling. Some politicians are fighting for our rights, but others are fighting for power. There is confusion and chaos." Leia inhaled deeply.

"Whoever is responsible for my trial and execution would be lauded," I said without emotion. Leia's lips quivered at the word execution.

"But we don't have to give him up," Rey said.

"When a situation is ambiguous and tensions are high, control often comes down to who possesses the most firepower."

"The Resistance wouldn't fire on us?" Rey asked, seeking reassurance from Leia.

The General did not respond.

"They are frightened," I continued smoothly. "They abandon their ideals when they feel threatened."

"It is still better than not having them to begin with," Rey argued.

"The difference matters little," I countered. "The New Republic's plans for me will be just as permanent as Snoke's."

"That isn't going to happen," Leia said firmly. Despite the unflinching exterior, I could feel the cauldron of uncertainty in her mind. Had the New Republic expected her cooperation they would have simply asked for it. Had Ultan not been under the threat of an attack, she would not have known of the plan to take me into custody until the vessel had arrived.

"You lie with such conviction it is almost admirable," I said flippantly. "Either that, or you cling to a falsehood out of hope. But you know the truth. They want revenge. Everything they had was obliterated. The people they held dear expunged in a fiery death. And now they _need_ someone to pay."

"You did not order the construction of Starkiller Base, nor did you command it to fire."

"I doubt anyone will appreciate that distinction." I looked briefly at Rey, then returned my focus to Leia. "Hux had functional command of the facility, but certain aspects of its construction and operation were my responsibilities."

"You were ultimately under the influence of Snoke."

"Many recognized the magnitude of the weapon we were creating," I explained. "They knew it meant devastation on a scale never before conceived. Among my tasks was the elimination of those whose reservations grew too strong."

Rey's mouth opened slightly. "You killed those who objected to the project?"

"Before they could object," I corrected. "In some cases, before they knew how deep their own doubt was."

"You murdered people who had not even acted against you?" Rey asked. "You took their thoughts and used them as justification for to kill them?"

"You seem remarkably concerned about the well-being of First Order members," I replied. "Perhaps some were good soldiers with wandering thoughts. Others would have exposed what we were doing to the New Republic given the opportunity."

"But you were in the middle of the Unknown Regions," Rey said.

"A construction project of that scale—it must have taken tens of thousands of laborers, or more, to build. Even in the unknown regions it is difficult to keep that many people quiet." Leia frowned slightly. "We always wondered how the First Order managed to hide the construction of Starkiller so effectively."

"I am quite gifted in the art of persuasion," I said coolly. "You see, the lines are not as clearly drawn as you would like."

"An impartial tribunal would not put you to death for Snoke's actions," Leia reaffirmed.

"My own actions will be quite sufficient to earn my execution," I said.

"Don't talk like that," Leia said abruptly.

"I do not fear death," I said.

"I do," Leia countered. I raised an eyebrow slightly: Perhaps she found it undesirable, but her willingness to risk herself and her friends for her foolish beliefs suggested death was far from her greatest fear. "And for now, that means we need to hold out against the First Order until our reinforcements arrive. And then… we deal with what comes next."

A/N: No Star Wars fan can help but be saddened by the sudden and unexpected loss of Carrie Fisher. I never had the privilege of meeting her, thus what I know of her comes from her work and interviews. Like many of us, she had challenges and faults; she also had the intellect, wit, and sense of humor to overcome them and was generous enough to share those talents with all of us. The determination, grit, and humor we saw in Princess Leia seemed so genuine because it was part of Carrier herself. I know many people today that have been inspired to pursue careers both in the arts and the sciences at least in part due to Carrie's work.

I also feel compelled to note the loss of someone I was fortunate enough to know, a real life member of a starship crew. Astronaut Piers Sellers passed away one week ago today. He was a remarkable scientist who served as a Space Shuttle crew member on three different occasions and dedicated his life to the study of our planet for the betterment of all of us. Even after he learned cancer would cut his life far too short he continued his work. Another remarkable individual who's departure leaves the world a shade darker.

Thank you both of you, and best wishes in eternity. Two very different people who have both inspired us to live with our eyes turned upward to the stars.


	34. Chapter 33

The tactical conference room featured a large semi-circular table that surrounded a late-model holoprojector. Several work stations were positioned off to one side, allowing staff officers to quickly work out scenarios and research information. When necessary, their findings could be immediately uploaded and presented to their superiors at the table. The setup was similar to those found on First Order vessels, albeit somewhat smaller and without the conference table on an elevated platform to denote the authority of the individuals seated there.

Leia took a seat at the center of the table, flanked by Dameron and a disgruntled looking Welles. Parsons, Seastriker, and several other officers filled most of the remaining seats. Rey sat at the far end of the table, looking out of place amongst the uniformed officers. I was uninterested in involving myself with them more than absolutely necessary, preferring to stand stiffly near the room's rear bulkhead.

"As you all know," Leia began, "We have reason to believe another First Order assault against Ultan is imminent. "The exact timing and scope of the attack is unknown, so we need to prepare for numerous possibilities. We are expecting reinforcements, but the information regarding them is vague. Assuming they departed from Conderis, we should be seeing them in four to six hours. Should the First Order show before then, our goal will be to hold the line with minimal civilian casualties until our support arrives."

"When is the earliest the Order could begin their assault?" an unfamiliar officer asked.

"There are many variables here," Parsons answered, "but intelligence's best guess is two to eight hours from now."

"That's the best you can do?" Welles asked in frustration. The man was clearly not taking his removal from command well, and his resentment for Leia's decision was being shown in an aggressive criticism of her chief Intelligence Officer.

Parsons frowned at the attack on his staff's competence. "We are guessing at everything from First Order ops plans to orbital alignments of various transmitters to the current position of the enemy fleet."

"I thought he was supposed to have all the answers," Welles said, jabbing a lean finger towards me. Several of those seated at the table turned their heads to look in my direction.

"My efforts to support your cause have been… restricted," I said quietly.

"I assume you mean our refusal to allow you to torture people," Welles said with obvious contempt.

"Our intelligence team is doing the best they can with the information they have available," Leia interrupted before I could reiterate what I thought of their disdain for my methods. "The fact remains no one can precisely predict the moves of the First Order."

"What reinforcements are being sent?" another officer asked.

"The New Republic originally dispatched the vessel for the purpose of apprehending Kylo Ren," Parsons said.

"I was not informed it was enroute until the interim Ultan government became aware of the First Order threat," Leia added, her voice strangely detached as she struggled to keep any hint of emotion out of it. While the reinforcements were needed, they also represented a threat to me. Suddenly the son she foolishly clung to was poised to create a schism between the Resistance she led and the New Republic she desired to protect.

"Some allies," Seastriker murmured quietly.

"We believe that they dispatched sufficient forces to give them a tactical upper hand should we choose not to release him to their custody," Parsons continued.

"You are saying they are preparing to fight us for him if we don't just hand him over?" a female office asked disbelievingly.

"They can have him," someone else said quickly.

Parsons raised his arms and attempted to clarify his statement. "They simply want to negotiate from a position of strength. It is highly unlikely they would risk the relationship between the Alliance and the Republic over a single person." It was impossible not to notice the doubt in his voice. He was an intelligence officer, and thus a student of behavior. He knew the actions of those seeking revenge and power were not always constrained by rational thought.

"Would it be safer for all of us if we got rid of him?" Dameron asked. "Put him on a shuttle and send him somewhere."

Leia considered the idea for a moment. It was something I had contemplated as well, but to suggest it myself would have reeked of cowardice. "Their efforts to capture him will not go away so easily. Hiding him will only prolong an inevitable confrontation, and if the New Republic feels we are being disingenuous it will only poison opportunities for compromise." She looked back at me. "In addition, I would not want to deprive us of his knowledge in the coming battle."

"Allow me to tap that knowledge," Parsons said pointedly. "What First Order fleets would be operating in the vicinity of Ultan?"

"I would have thought your intelligence would track such ship movements," I replied softly.

Parsons frowned slightly. "Of course, but by corroborating our information with yours we can paint a more complete picture."

Fleet movements were rarely of interest to me: the positioning starships in preparation for grand campaigns was Hux's domain. I prefer a more personal, direct approach. Still, my position within the First Order was such that I found myself frequently involved in strategic planning.

Despite my objectives coming directly from the Supreme Leader, senior officers resisted my efforts to amend their operations to better serve my purposes. Hux was no exception. During my time on the _Finalizer_ he had found my involvement in such matters, no matter how rare, infuriating. Whenever possible the General had assigned a mid-level staff officer to brief me rather than discuss his plans directly. He had also all but demanded that I avoid high-level staff meetings.

It was a _request_ I had been compelled to ignore simply to ensure the General did not forget his place.

"It has been seventeen days since I received a briefing on fleet movements in this area," I answered the Major, my mind flashing back to the nervous Lieutenant standing before me in a conference room. At first I had been insulted by Hux decision to assign such a lowly officer to me, but I had quickly discovered the man was surprisingly competent despite his discomfiture. "At that time two task forces were operation in this and adjacent sectors."

"Was the _Belligerent_ assigned to one of those?" Dameron asked.

I shook my head almost imperceptibly. "I believe the _Belligerent_ was detached from another fleet for the purpose of finding me."

Parsons nodded. "So two battlegroups, and possibly an additional ship." He leaned back almost casually in his chair, seeming to forget who he was conversing with. "That fits with our estimates; do you know the composition of the task forces?"

I was intimately familiar with the first Task Force. "The _Finalizer_ had two _Imperial_ class vessels and numerous support ships when I departed."

I could see the intelligence offer clench his teeth slightly. _Imperial_ class Star Destroyers were no longer inspired the same fear they had at the height of the Empire, but the venerable warships still possessed a formidable array of weapons and fighters.

"And the other?" Dameron asked.

I paused for a moment. The information had been trivial to me when the Lieutenant had first presented it, but was easily recalled with the use of the Force to enhance my memory. "The _Eviscerator_ was operating with minimal support, perhaps a heavy cruiser or two. The rest of its task force had been reassigned to a skirmish in the Outer Rim. Given the situation, I doubt they have returned yet."

"What situation?" Parsons asked, unable to contain his interest in what type of internal event would lead the First Order to recall combat vessels to the Outer Rim.

I glared at Parsons, and his casually demeanor faded away. "Should I desire to provide you with information beyond the scope of the battle ahead, it will be at a time and place of _my_ choosing," I replied firmly.

"So you're holding onto the good stuff to bargain with?" Dameron asked insightfully.

My lip formed the slightest of smiles, a gesture Dameron seemed to find unsettling. "Something like that."

"Both forces are led by a _Resurgent_ class ship," Leia said in an obvious attempt to refocus the conversation. "A single vessel of the type could prove overwhelming to three ageing Star Cruisers."

"Our capital ships are no match for them," Dameron agreed. "It's going to come down to our fighters."

The Resistance, like the Rebellion before it, had shown a remarkable capacity to employ small single and two seat fighters against far larger vessels. History had been made on several occasions where fast and maneuverable ships had evaded powerful but cumbersome defenses. Much as with the Force itself, no power was truly overwhelming unless the one who wielded it possessed finesse. It was a lesson Hux had been forced to learn the hard way.

"We are still going to be outgunned," Dameron continued, "Especially if they come in with a pair of Impstars with hangars full of Ties. But our fighter wings still have a better chance against their forces than the cruisers will."

"I agree," Leia said. "Our best hope is using the cruisers and superiority fighters to give our bombers a clear shot at the enemy capital ships."

"And how to you propose to do that?" Welles asked, his voice sounding almost cynical. It was clear he was not taking Dameron's assumption of command well.

"Working on it," Dameron said, his cordial demeanor betrayed by eyes that showed obvious signs of irritation with Welles. He looked over at Parsons. "What do your people have on a _Resurgent_ that we can use?"

Parsons pursed his lips. "Not as much as I'd like. As you know they are fortresses. Compared to Imperial ship designs they have more capable starfighter defenses. But like most Star Destroyer designs the hull geometry is optimized for frontal attacks and broadsides. But they still have plenty of rear mounted weapons and shield emitters."

"They may not be as effective as you fear," I said quietly, causing several sets of eyes to rise towards me.

"I know from experience how potent some of those weapons can be," Dameron said dryly.

My lip twitched involuntarily as a wave of unease passed through me. I was discussing the tactical shortcomings of a First Order vessel with a room full of officers who only days before would have celebrated my demise. Most still would.

"The _Eviscerator_ is a first generation _Resurgent_ Battlecruiser, the second of the class to be constructed. It was later upgraded with the improved shield emitters, weapons, and sensors similar to those found on the _Finalizer_."

Dameron raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were trying to allay my fears."

I ignored the smug interruption. "The _Eviscerator_ still lacks the firepower and defensive capabilities of the _Finalizer_. Furthermore, her power distribution systems were not enhanced during the retrofits. Several unorthodox modifications were needed to meet the power requirements of the new systems, leaving them somewhat… vulnerable."

Parsons raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"They instead fed the new systems directly off the power conduits to the secondary engines."

I saw Leia, Parsons, and Dameron simultaneously recognize the significance of what I was saying. Parsons spoke first. "Everything is tied together."

"Bring up some technical schematics of a _Resurgent_ class vessel," Dameron requested.

"I'll get you what we have," Parsons said, inputting several commands into the console before him and causing a three meter long projection of a Star Destroyer to appear over the conference table. Another series of keystrokes highlighted what Resistance analysts had conjectured about various systems.

"Crude," I said, my voice dripping with disapproval. Though the hull and external systems were represented in impressive detail, but the Resistance had a surprisingly limited understanding of the inner workings of a modern First Order warship. "Your schematics are highly inaccurate," I said.

"Our intelligence came from an engineer we captured at Armeron," Parsons said. "His information has been very valuable."

Suddenly the cause of their errors became obvious. I caught myself before the smile on my lips became noticeable. "Major Yash Coorteno."

Parsons blinked in surprise. "You know him?"

"I conducted his psychological reconditioning personally." I inclined my head slightly. I could see both Rey and Dameron recoil slightly, understanding the gravity of my words. They had experienced firsthand what I could do to another's mind. Reconditioning was a commonly used procedure to control the thoughts of lower level troops, but it could also had more complex applications. The basic treatment was unpleasant enough, but when coupled with my influence through the Force the process became agonizing. It was a mental torture that broke down and reformed various parts of the target's consciousness.

Coorteno's thoughts had been restructured carefully, preserving enough of who he was to make him appear to be a valuable prisoner but distorting critical information to ensure nothing of true significance became known to the enemy. It was a multi-day process that had repeatedly brought the man to the brink.

"You do not believe we would allow such a man to be captured with his knowledge fully intact?"

"I refuse to believe that every prisoner we take is the result of a carefully orchestrated First Order plan," another officer said.

I ignored the interloper, focusing instead on Parsons. He seemed to quietly contemplate the possibility. "When you found him his skin was covered in red splotches caused by ruptured blood vessels," I said factually.

The Major's lip twitched. "He said it was due to G-forces on his transport during his escape. We found the inertial compensators were failing."

"He did not acclimate well to the pain of reconditioning," I said in a cool, emotionless voice. "Muscle spasms resulted in the rupture of numerous capillaries. Rather than wait for them to heal, I simply ensured he had the proper memories to explain them."

"You tortured your own man and then concealed it with mind tricks?" Seastriker asked in disbelief.

"You doubt my power to do so?" I asked.

"No one doubts your power," Leia said diplomatically, her voice hinting of the same tones she'd used to appease her upset son years before.

"Just your motivations, morality, and sanity," Welles said.

A/N: Happy New Year!

And yes, I know we are getting into a little more technical stuff, but I know some folks enjoy that. Plus, it gives Kylo an opportunity to demonstrate his value! But despite the planning, there will be a few surprises in the coming battle.

And the phenomenon Yash Coorteno used as cover is real… It afflicts some fighter pilots. Feel free to look up "G-measles".

As always, thank you for the faves, follows, and especially reviews!


	35. Chapter 34

Leia frowned at the Commander. "We gain nothing by antagonizing one another," she said. Her voice was gentle, but it was an obvious rebuke.

Dameron glanced over the schematics. "I assume the placement of the isotope containment wells are correct," he said, pointing to several bulges on the rear of the ship.

I nodded.

"If we could damage them," Dameron continued, "it could destabilize the reactant silos."

"That would knock the secondary engines off-line," Parsons said, "as well as anything associated with them."

"And isotope wells will be just below the outer hull plating," Seastriker added. "They should be easy to take out… if we can get through the shields."

Welles raised a hand to interrupt. "You are telling me the First Order designed a ship with an exposed engine component that, if destroyed, can bring down aft shields and weapons?"

"It isn't exposed," Dameron explained, "but they aren't buried in the ship. Isotope wells use heat exchangers so they are more efficient when exposed to space."

"I'm familiar with starship systems, Commander," Welles said dryly.

Dameron ignored him. "And it normally wouldn't matter. No one would charge into range of dozens of turbolasers, dodge missiles, amd punch through the aft shields just to disable a secondary engine. They'd target weapons, sensors, shield emitters…"

"But they cut corners," Seastriker said, "So that now taking out that engine brings down everything else."

"I still don't buy it," Welles said. "Why would they leave such a glaring weakness?"

"We required the vessel to be returned to service quickly for an operation," I said. "It was deemed an acceptable risk. Given that you were unaware it existed, it seems that was a reasonable decision."

"This is all assuming the _Eviscerator_ is the ship that responds," Welles pointed out.

"Any comparable weaknesses on the _Finalizer_?" Parsons asked.

"No," I replied succinctly. Externally, _Finalizer_ was nearly indistinguishable from _Eviscerator._ But despite their nearly identical hulls and structure, their systems were substantially different, with _Finalizer_ being bolstered by everything from a triple-redundant high capacity power distribution network to Kyber-crystal enhanced weapons. Any weakness that had been identified on the first generation of _Resurgent_ class ships had been carefully corrected by the time _Finalizer_ was launched.

"So what do you suggest if the _Finalizer_ joins the battle?" Welles pressed.

"Withdraw."

"History is not written by those who make a hasty retreat," another officer at the table huffed.

"Nor by the dead," I said quietly.

"The Resistance is no stranger to seemingly insurmountable odds," Welles said stiffly. "You should know that well by now."

Parsons shifted his weight in his seat. "But such victories required careful planning to exploit known weaknesses," he said, seemingly uncomfortable contradicting his peer in front of me.

"Spoken like an intelligence officer," Welles grumbled. "Our accomplishments are the result of the perseverance and bravery of our people, not some back room analysis."

"I don't intend to suggest otherwise," Parsons said, a hint of irritation in his voice. "Let me remind you that I was an infantry commander before I moved to intelligence. I have seen what great men and women can accomplish on the battlefield." He looked back at Leia. "And that is why it is so uncomfortable for me to discuss sending people against an overwhelming force. They deserve better from us."

Leia nodded. "I agree. But our retreat would result in another wave of destruction on Ultan. I cannot take that lightly."

"I do not envy your position," Parsons replied.

"For now, I want two battle plans developed. One to execute the strategy that has been proposed to deal with the _Eviscerator_ and another on how to delay the _Finalizer_ as long as possible." With that she stood, and the officers at the table immediately came to attention. Rey came to her feet as well, though more informally.

Leia stepped back from the table and several of the officer immediately began discussions, one referencing the Star Destroyer diagram that still hung in the air. Others went to private workstations to begin their own analysis. I stood near the door, taking in the activity before I noticed a young officer guiding Rey to one of the work stations. I carefully kept my distance, using the Force to refine my senses so I could observe what was occurring without intruding.

"We had a holonet transmission come in for you about ten minutes ago," the man said. "I informed him you were in a meeting with the General but he insisted on holding the channel until you were free."

"Thank you," Rey said as she took a seat at the workstation. She punched a code into the computer before her and the attached hologram projector crackled to life. Even from my obscure viewing angle it was immediately evident who the man was: The traitor. FN-2187.

"Finn!" Rey greeted him warmly despite the strain she was under. "How are you? How is the therapy going—when I left Doctor…" She trailed off as the man raised his hands.

FN-2187 offered her a toothy grin. "I'm fine Rey, and thanks for asking. But that isn't why I'm calling. There is a rumor going around I thought you and the General needed to know about. I'm not sure if it is true, but apparently someone either captured or killed Kylo Ren. I'm not sure how or when, but the New Republic dispatched the _Vision_ to investigate so it must be pretty serious."

Rey's lips tightened noticeably as she considered how to respond. "It's complicated," she said.

"Tell me about it. No one knows exactly what is going on, and with something this big everyone has an opinion. Hopefully it means you'll never need to deal with that _thing_ again."

"I meant it's complicated _here_." Rey paused for a moment. "You see… he wasn't exactly captured."

"So he's dead," he said. "I kind of assumed he'd fight to the death. He was as arrogant as he was evil." Rey raised her hands slightly, but the former stormtrooper failed to notice. "Probably better in the long run." His expression cooled noticeably as he realized there was another consideration he had failed to take into account. "How is the General taking it?"

"Actually," Rey said slowly. "He's not dead."

"How could you… are you at Ultan? That's where the ship was headed."

"I am." Rey swallowed, unsure how her friend would react to her next statement. "And so is he."

The surprise on the ex-stormtooper's face was evident, even on the quarter scale hologram. "What do you mean?" he demanded.

"He has left the First Order," Rey said.

There were several seconds of silence before the man quietly replied: "I don't believe it. He's a twisted, evil puppet of Snoke. Beyond redemption."

"Something happened between him and Snoke. He hasn't said much about it, but if he goes back Snoke will kill him."

"Sounds like a plan."

"You don't really believe that," Rey admonished.

"If anyone has ever deserved to be tortured and killed, it's Kylo Ren."

Rey flinched slightly. As much as she wanted to sympathize with her friend, her training prevented her from agreeing with his statement. "He's been helping us," She countered, "Right now we have a common enemy."

" _He is the enemy_ ," FN-2187 spat. "No amount of smooth talking changes that." He looked almost pleadingly at Rey. "And you said it yourself. 'For now'. What happens when that changes? He'll hurt you the moment he no longer needs you."

"It isn't that simple," Rey said.

"Yes it is!" the traitor insisted. "I get the General's sympathies… she can't separate that creature from her son. But you… you know better. You saw what he did to Han. He's capable of _anything_. There are no limits to his cruelty."

"I can't condone what he's done," Rey replied, "but if he can help us to defeat Snoke…"

"Forget what should happen to him. I'm worried about _you._ "

"I know," Rey said, fighting back tears. "I know you won't understand, but he isn't what you think he is."

"I won't understand?" the former Stormtrooper scoffed. "I'm not strong in the Force so I don't get it. That's what you meant to say."

"I've seen his thoughts," Rey said. "There is something within him. Something good that wants to be free."

"Or that is what he wants you to see. I may not be a Jedi, but I can see when someone is being used."

"Finn, please."

"Look, I should be out there with you, but I still can't walk without excruciating pain! All because of that man—that thing!" The man glanced down. "And compared to most of his victims," he said more solemnly, "I am incredibly lucky."

I took several steps forward, placing myself into view of the holocamera. I saw FN-2187's throat muscles tightened noticeably as a he fought back a wave of nausea. "No…" His attention snapped back to Rey. "What are you people thinking? He should be _in a cell_."

"Had my blade been less precise, perhaps you would not have lived long enough to endure such agony," I said, my voice calm and emotionless despite my revulsion for the traitor.

"Had you been precise," he taunted, "I'd be dead."

"Believe what you wish," I replied. "My desire to end you was nothing next to my craving to see you suffer." Had I truly wanted the man dead, he would have been. But my blade was guided by the Force, and thus by my motivations.

To my surprise, the traitor laughed. "You're making excuses now."

My expression darkened. Who was this vile, untrustworthy creature to challenge me?

The traitor's eyebrows raised slightly and grinned smugly. "Touched a nerve there, huh?"

I inhaled almost imperceptibly. "As did I," I replied quietly, darkness lacing my words.

The smile faded. "You think it's funny?" he asked. "What you do… inflicting injuries, torturing, killing… it amuses you?" FN-2187's gaze shifted to Rey. "Life doesn't matter to him. He doesn't care about suffering. He doesn't respect _anything_ ," He said in exasperation. "Least of all you."

"Rey is most certainly worthy of respect," I said. "You do not even begin to comprehend why."

The former Stormtrooper shook his head. "No, you're the one who doesn't understand. To me Rey is a kind, caring, good person. All you see is a power that you can manipulate to do your bidding. That isn't respect, its exploitation."

"If you believe I can coerce her that easily you do not know her as well as you think," I snapped. "Rather than challenging me, perhaps you should focus on helping her. I understand the New Republic has not provided any information about when the _Vision_ will arrive or the composition of its battle group."

The other man's eyes narrowed. "And why would you want to know that?"

"We are expecting another First Order attack," Rey interjected. "The timing of the _Vision's_ arrival could make a major difference."

"And I should know that," he replied, almost sarcastically. "After all, I'm a liaison officer to the New Republic military." The hologram glared at me, the fury behind the traitor's eyes clearly showing despite the poor quality of the transmission. "Which, I might add, is not a job I wanted but the kind of thing they give to a cripple who can't serve on the front lines."

His head shifted almost imperceptibly back towards Rey. "The truth is our relations aren't great, and when it comes to Kylo Ren they don't trust Leia's judgement. I found out everything I know through friends and contacts. I can tell you the _Vision_ left Conderis one to two hours ago, but that is about it."

I withheld comment on the acrimonious relationship between the Resistance and Republic, instead mentally calculating travel time from Conderis to Ultan. "Six hours," I said.

"Is that soon enough?" the traitor asked, his animosity for me momentarily set aside and replaced by concern for his friends about the _Emancipator._

I returned his stare without emotion, knowing that it was likely the First Order would arrive first. "No," I said bluntly.

His expression darkened noticeably, the fear in his eyes evident even through the flickering hologram. "You need to retreat," he said quietly. "It's too much of a risk. You can go back and fight them off when the _Vision_ arrives."

"That could be too late for a lot of innocent people," Rey argued. "And I know you understand that. You barely knew me when you strong-armed the Resistance into launching a rescue mission to get me off Starkiller base."

"That was different… we needed to disable the shields so that—"

"And would you have left without me?" Rey asked.

"No," the traitor admitted. "You were the reason I was there," he said candidly.

"And protecting innocent people is the reason I am _here_."

Hopefully everyone enjoyed Finn's appearance! He's too interesting of a character not to include, and obviously he and Kylo have some serious unresolved issues!

As always, thank you for the faves, follows, views, and especially reviews!


	36. Chapter 35

Ninety eight minutes later the enemy emerged from Hyperspace.

It had been ninety eight minutes of arguments and indecision as various officers put forth plans only to find their theories torn apart by their peers. At Leia's request I had remained in the planning room, but few of those present were inclined to seek my counsel. Despite my limited interactions, I could sense the apprehension and anxiety that swarmed through the room like a thick fog.

As the sirens began whaling I followed Leia, Dameron, and several other officers to the bridge. It was a short walk, and the bridge crew was still analyzing the enemy task force when we arrived.

"Report," Leia ordered.

"One _Resurgent_ class Battlecruiser in the system and holding position," a red-skinned Devaronian announced. "Shields and weapons powered, they have not launched any fighters. Two _Imperial_ class Star Destroyers as well."

"Working on an ID for the _Resurgent_ ," a human female added.

"Why are they holding position?" Seastriker asked from behind us.

"Only one reason I can think of," Dameron said. "They have reinforcements coming."

"Then we should take them out now," Welles demanded.

"If Ren is right about the fleet makeup, that is the _Finalizer_ ," Parsons said. "We don't have the firepower to take it on, let alone its support ships."

Welles frowned. "And we'll be even worse off when their reinforcements arrive."

"Our goal," Leia said softly but authoritatively, "Is to delay them as long as possible. If they are going to give us time, we'll take it."

"Power signature confirms, it's the _Finalizer_ ," the female officer said to no one in particular.

I looked at the tactical display, noting the location where the _Finalizer_ had entered the system relative to Ultan IV's blue-hued moon. The same strange blue moon that had caught my eye from the surface, a planetary body that was mostly unremarkable but strangely fascinating. And suddenly I understood. I found myself drawn to the moon by the Force itself.

As Leia continued to converse with her officers I motioned for Dameron to join me. "Both Imperial Star Destroyers have formed up on the _Finalizer's_ right flank," I said, pointing towards the display with my gloved index finger. "The _Eviscerator_ will obviously take a position on the left. You know how the battle lines will be formed: that gives you a distinct tactical advantage."

"And they know where we are too," the pilot bemoaned. "It isn't like we can just sneak—He paused as a spark of recognition shot through his mind.

Like all celestial bodies, the moon's gravity well cast a mass shadow in hyperspace. These shadows had a tendency to rip ships from hyperspace as they crossed the threshold. It had proven to be one of the greatest limitations of hyperdrive, but it also allowed unique strategies. The illustrious Grand Admiral Thrawn had repeatedly used both natural and artificial gravity wells to precisely position his fleets… and to trap his enemies.

And because the First Order fleet was positioned so close to the moon, the Resistance could use its gravity well to quickly and precisely gain the upper hand.

"A direct line from their current position to Ultan will take them within a few hundred kilometers of the moon's gravity well," Dameron said, a smile crossing his face. "If we plan things right, we'd drop out of hyperspace just behind them." He looked up from the display. "I didn't realize you were a tactician."

"I am what the Force desires I be," I replied.

Poe smiled broadly, and reached out to slap my shoulder before thinking better of it. Instead, he turned back to Leia and the other officers. "We may have a way out of this," he said.

Dameron quickly explained the strategy to his compatriots, and then he and Welles set to work calculating precise positioning while Seastriker headed to the hangar bay to take command of the Fighter Wings.

As soon as Dameron and Welles had the requisite vectors they began feeding their computations to other stations. The bridge became a hive of activity as each crewmember reviewed their specific responsibilities.

"I want to launch fighters before we jump," Leia instructed. "That will save valuable seconds."

Dameron reached down to turn on the comm, but before doing so turned back to Leia. "I should be out there with them."

"Perhaps," Leia conceded. "But we need an experienced fighter pilot here to coordinate operations, and I don't have any other options."

"Commander Seastriker or Captain Naver could-"

"I trust you, Poe," Leia said, a gentle smile on her lips. "Trust me."

Dameron inhaled deeply and glanced at me. It was not the first time she had made that request of him recently. "Yes ma'am." He reached down and activated the comm. "Commander Seastriker: Launch all fighters and standby for hyperspace vectors."

"Acknowledged, _Emancipator_." There was a brief pause, followed by Seastriker issuing a series of instructions to individual squadrons. A steady stream of X-wings and B-wings began to emerge from the _Emancipator,_ and moments later the _Alliance_ began to disgorge her fighters as well.

"You are not going to include the Resolute?" Rey asked.

"They don't have our encryption codes," Leia replied. "Anything we broadcast to them could be intercepted by the First Order."

"This whole plan hinges on getting off some free shots at the _Eviscerator_ before they know what is happening," Dameron explained. He glanced down at his panel. "Red, green, and blue squadrons are deployed. Gold and black launching now."

"All squadrons, Pentil-Four formation off the cruisers," Seastrikers voice said across the speaker. The holographic display showed the mass of starfighters withering around the two capital ships like a furious swarm of insects. Slowly a pattern emerged as they settled into positions that kept them close to the cruisers but provided ample room to maneuver after the jump.

"Any reaction for the _Finalizer_?" Leia asked.

"Negative, General," an officer replied, confirming what I could see on the holographic display. Hux was unwilling to show his hand until his reinforcements arrived.

"All Starfighters deployed, General," Dameron said. He looked up from his display, his eyes clearly showing his desire to be in the cockpit instead of on the bridge of the _Emancipator_. "All squadrons report ready."

" _Resolute_ is hailing," the comms officer announced. "Captain Brice sees we have deployed fighters and wants to know the plan."

"Captain Brice will need to patient," Leia said. "Maintain radio silence on all unencrypted channels."

"Yes, Ma'am," the officer replied.

The _Eviscerator_ emerged from hyperspace less than one thousand kilometers from its sister ship, flanked by an elderly _Victory_ -class Star Destroyer. But it was not the battlegroup that drew my attention.

Despite the great distance, the colossal _Resurgent_ class vessels were visible to the naked eye, stunningly brilliant pinpricks of reflected light amongst a background of more subdued stars. But the rays of Ultan's yellow son could not conceal the haze of darkness shrouding the newly arrived vessel, a sensation of power and malevolence that was both troubling and familiar. It the signature of one firmly entrenched in the power of the Dark Side.

I noticed Rey flinch slightly, her eyes fixated on the distant ship. "You feel it too," I observed.

"Incoming transmission form the lead Star Destroyer," an officer announced. "Audio only."

A familiar voice echoed across the bridge, an insufferable mix of smugness, confidence, and contempt. There was no need for an introduction; the haughty condescension was unmistakable. Hux. "This system is now under the authority of the First Order. You will turn over the traitor Kylo Ren to us and then withdraw."

Leia nodded towards Dameron, who stepped up to the communications panel. He inhaled slowly, and his face darkened. The serious, grim expression was unusual for him, but I saw a familiar determination in his eyes. "First Order vessels, you have entered a system under the joint protection of the New Republic Fleet and the Resistance." He spoke firmly with gravitas I was surprised to find he possessed. His words were commanding and compelling. "If you do not withdraw immediately I will be forced to respond appropriately."

Unfortunately, he had nothing with which to substantiate them.

The First Order General responded immediately. "I am offering you an opportunity to leave. Are you truly willing to sacrifice yourself for Kylo Ren?"

Dameron's jaw clenched. "I do not respond well to threats," he said. "I will not be intimidated by you."

"You should be," Hux replied darkly.

"You seem to forget that we've met," Dameron retorted almost flippantly, his calm composure cracking slightly and being replaced with a more typical sarcasm. "Irritating, sure. Dangerous, maybe. Intimidating—try again."

"The pilot," the General mused, "Your voice is different when it is not laced with pain. That can be resolved." Hux paused. "I am willing to let you leave unharmed, provided my demands are met. If you fail to follow my instructions, your lives—and the lives of all those on the surface—shall be forfeit."

"This is not a negotiation," Dameron replied more sternly. "You will leave this system at once, or you will be driven from it."

I knew the smirk that was spreading across Hux's face; I had seen it many times. An expression of contempt and confidence. "You can try."

The transmission cut off, and moments later the First Order ships began to move. "They'll be in weapons range of the planet in fourteen minutes at current speed."

Dameron and Welles immediately set to work recalculating our lightspeed vectors. Moments later, a data transmission went out to the fleet with final instructions and the countdown began.

"All ships, stand by," Dameron said, glancing almost nervously at the countdown timer as it passed through two minutes.

"What did you sense?" Leia asked. "I could feel it, but not like you."

"It felt like him," Rey said, motioning to me. "Different, but the same."

"Enemy ships have begun launching fighters, and a few shuttles," the sensor officer said in our direction, apparently feeling information that was easily obtainable on the holographic display needed to be used to interrupt a private conversation.

"Understood Lieutenant, get me a final count," Leia said calmly. She looked back at me. "Go ahead."

"It is a familiar presence," I said. "I believe it is one of my former knights."

I could see Rey's eyes light up with sudden understanding. "Snoke wants you alive, and he thinks a Knight would have a better chance of restraining you."

I nodded. "The bonds one builds with those they train are not immaterial."

"You can tell who it is from way out here?" Dameron asked.

I did not feel it necessary to explain to the pilot the bonds one can develop when training another in the ways of the Force. "Marxon," I whispered.

"If you trained him, you can defeat him," Rey surmised.

"One on one. Combined with a legion of stromtroopers his abilities should be sufficient to subdue me," I admitted.

A timer beeped, and Dameron looked over at his panel. Fifteen seconds.

The comm crackled with Joph Seastriker's voice. "All fighters stand ready. Immediately commence attack pattern Ren One on reversion real-space."

I raised an eyebrow and glanced looked towards Dameron. "We had to call it something," the pilot said.

The timer clicked down to zero, and the star lines began to elongate as the Resistance Fleet surged forward.

A/N: So cannon can't quite seem to figure out that how hyperdrives work… mass shadows are reintroduced in various stuff, but then Rogue One seems to contradict them by entering hyperspace while still in the atmosphere. Maybe it varies by planet… for those like me who think about such details, I'm trying to keep it reasonable and true to canon. For everyone else… we shouldn't need to talk about hyperdrives anymore… it is time for some action now!

As always, thank you for the follows, faves, and views. And a special thank you to those of you that have taken the time to review these last few chapters: Lothiel, Dirtkid123, AnakinandPadme, Earial13, Jellybean, lkleeberger22, PrincessStarberry, Khalthar, and guests!

Please let me know what you think… and stay tuned for stuff to get more interesting. These last few chapters have been a setup for major confrontation both in space and in person…


	37. Chapter 36

The Resistance ships were ripped from hyperspace almost immediately as they entered the gravity well of the moon. Rather than fade to the molten colors of hyperspace the starlines reverted violently back to pinpricks of light.

The tactical display showed that jump had worked nearly perfectly, dropping the Resistance fleet into realspace barely one hundred kilometers behind the First Order ships. The fighter wings were already heading towards their target, counting on their speed and the element of surprise to allow them to assault the _Eviscerator_ before the battlecruiser could respond.

Dameron glanced at Leia, who gave him a subtle nod. Turning back to the tactical display he keyed the comm. "All fighters cleared to engage."

"Acknowledged, _Emanciaptor,_ " Seastriker's voice responded. "All ships, S-Foils in attack position," he commanded, with each squadron leader acknowledging in order. "Red, green, blue, and gold squadrons form set up for your attack runs as briefed, cleared weapons hot. Black and silver squadrons on me. All other units screen formation." As the young commander finished relaying his orders the tactical display showed nearly one hundred Starfighters quickly move into columns that would allow them to fire their proton torpedoes without the risk of friendly fire. Several dozen other fighters formed a defensive screen around the columns, preparing to counter the waves of Tie Fighters the First Order would inevitably launch.

"Bring us around to one-seven-four mark two-six and set that as our new reference datum. Have the _Alliance_ take our right flank." He glanced over at Leia. "We are going to put ourselves between the _Finalizer_ and the _Eviscerator_ to try and give the fighters the cover they need."

"Enemy vessels are launching fighters," the sensor officer called out. I saw Dameron flinch slightly. He was confident in his pilots, but he knew that if the First Order ships carried a full complement of starfighters they would outnumber the Resistance two to one.

The bow of the _Emancipator_ began to swing around, the agonizingly slow motion of the capital ship raising the tension on the bridge even further. Red and green laser fire began to fill the sky as the Tie fighters and X-wings began what would inevitably be a costly confrontation. The First Order capital ships were beginning to respond as well, with the _Finalizer_ initiating its own slow turn that would eventually bring it about to face the Resistance ships.

Moments later the _Eviscerator_ began to pitch down, trying to find an angle that would allow its powerful ventral cannons to fire at the approaching Starfighters. Dameron immediately noticed the movement. "All squadrons assaulting _Eviscerator_ : keep above the longitudinal access until you clear the firing arc of the ventral weapons." The tactical display showed the Resistance pilots following his instructions, modifying their course and continuing to approach at high speed.

The _Emancipator_ completed its turn just in time to see the first of the torpedoes impact the _Eviscerator_. A brilliant blue fireball erupted, following the arc of the Star Destroyer's aft shields. The inferno expanded relentlessly outward into space as volley after volley of torpedoes hit the energy barrier.

The _Emancipator_ shook violently as it was raked by a wave of fire from the _Finalizer._ Realizing that the Resistance vessels were focusing on the _Eviscerator,_ Hux had already ordered his forces to its defense. The _Eviscerator_ was a formidable warship, its capability in battle the envy of fleet captains across the galaxy. But Hux was no fool: the General quickly recognized his enemy was attempting to exploit one of the mighty vessel's few weaknesses.

"Hold position!" Leia commanded. "Distribute power as needed to keep the shields up."

Dameron nodded smartly. Mon Calamari cruisers were old, but their strength was legendary. Though smaller and less powerful than their Imperial counterparts, the Galactic Civil War had shown the cruisers were remarkably resilient and could take incredible damage without fail.

But that was against _Imperial_ class Star Destroyers. _Resurgent_ class ships far outclassed the _Emancipator._ But the Resistance ship did not need to defeat the _Finalizer,_ merely hold it at bay for a while.

"Red and Blue squadrons," Seastrikers voice said over the comm, "Head for the _Finalizer_ and see if you can get some of those Ties to follow you. We need to keep them away from the B-Wings."

A small column of red and orange fire erupted from the _Eviscerator's_ stern as several torpedoes broke through the thick shields. The explosions tore through the heavy hull armor, shredding the outer layer and spraying debris outward.

"Shield penetration," someone yelled excitedly.

"Look at her burn!" another pilot yelled.

"We don't need commentary, Gold Four, "Seastriker's voice crackled over the comm. "But keep it burning! Remember, focus fire immediately below the secondary engines."

The Star Destroyer's commander was undoubtedly aware the starfighters had succeeded in damaging his vessel; the force of the impact was likely felt on the bridge before the status display indicated what had occurred. Until now the Star Destroyer had evenly distributed power between shields and weapons, hoping that the _Finalizer_ and its fighters would be able to put a stop to the assault before the _Eviscerator's_ shields failed completely. He no longer had the luxury of waiting for them.

The status board illuminated in reds and yellows as sensors indicated the Star Destroyer was transferring power from shields and brining its aft weapons to full power.

Dameron pressed down on the comm, but before he was able to issue a warning a withering array of laser fire tore through the formations of starfighters, followed by dozens of missiles. Some ships took glancing blows, forcing them to break of their assault. Others erupted in flames as First Order gunners struck critical blows. The communications panel was overwhelmed by overlapping radio calls as Squadron commanders urgently relayed instructions in an effort to avoid the deadly deluge the battlecruiser had unleased.

Despite the carnage and loss of colleagues, the will of the relentless Resistance pilots was not broken. The hail of fire continued, but wave after wave of fighter continued into the maelstrom. Dozens more torpedoes raced towards the _Eviscerator,_ some intercepted by the Star Destroyer's weapons but others finding their mark.

A series of explosions had torn a hull through the outer plating, allowing subsequent fire to pass into the warship's interior. At first the repeated volleys seemed to be absorbed into the massive ship, disappearing from view with no apparent damage.

Then, without warning, there was a large internal explosion. Yellow flames began trailing from one of the secondary engines, the bright plume of flame illuminating growing hole below the engine.

"Looks like an isotope containment well ruptured," the sensor officer reported. "They've lost a third of their aft weapons and rear shields are collapsing."

"Press," Dameron ordered. "I don't want to give them time to bring those shields back online."

"Too late," the female officer reported. "Shields are coming back up."

Dameron clenched his jaw. "Figure out where they are weakest, and resume-"

He stopped mid-sentence as he watched the dull blue glow of the number three ion engine flicker and then fade, leaving the massive thrust nozzle dark. The dagger-shaped battlecruiser began swinging to the right, its two remaining engines trying to push it forward but the asymmetric thrust resulting in a lumbering turn.

"What happened?" Dameron demanded.

The sensor officer shook his head. "I saw a spike when they brought the shields back up. They must have blown a relay station when they redistributed power and it took the engine with it."

The inquiry into what had occurred was cut short as the _Emancipator_ rocked violently. The _Eviscerato_ r's rotation had brought its main batteries in range of the _Emancipator_ and the Star Destroyer had opened up with a massive broadside.

"Shields are buckling," someone yelled.

"We aren't going to be able to take broadsides from both ships from very long," Dameron said.

"We might not need to," Welles said, pointing to the tactical display. "The _Finalizer_ is breaking off and heading towards the planet."

"They are giving up on the _Eviscerator_?" someone asked.

Leia frowned. She knew it was not that simple. Despite the damage that had been inflicted, the Star Destroyer still had the majority of its weapons and shields intact. With its drive motors damaged it was poorly suited to an offensive operation, but remained more than capable of defending itself against the small Resistance force. "No," she said sourly, "They are forcing us to choose."

Dameron nodded in agreement. "Slug it out with the _Eviscerator_ while they terrorize the planet, or face the _Finalizer_ head on."

"We've taken damage to the forward targeting array and starboard missile launchers," the female officer reported, "And nearly a half of our fighters have been damaged or destroyed."

"The _Alliance_ just lost forward shields," Welles announced. "They are breaking off while they try to get them back up."

"Commander Seastriker is requesting orders," Dameron relayed. "What shall I tell him?"

"General, I am forced to point out that even with the assistance of _Resolute_ our chances of successfully engaging the _Finalizer_ in our current condition…" Parsons let his words trail off, knowing what his commander's reaction would be.

"We don't have a choice," Leia said. "We can't let them commence an orbital attack. Set an intercept course for the _Finalizer_."

A/N: So our first big space combat scene! Interested to hear your thoughts!

As always, thank you for the faves, follows, view, and especially reviews! The great reviews I've been getting recently have encouraged me to devote as much free time as I can to the story, hence the fast(er) updating. I can't always promise fast updates due to other life commitments, but the positive energy helps!

Thanks again!


	38. Chapter 37

"Lieutenant Keskstra, get us moving" Dameron ordered. "Intercept the _Finalizer_." He looked to his right. "Commander Welles, contact the New Republic ship and request their assistance. In the clear if necessary." _Emancipator_ shuddered as the aging sublight engines came to full power. The Mon Calamari cruiser began to pull away from the damaged Star Destroyer, but the wounded _Eviscerator_ continued to fire ineffectively. "All fighters, form up on the _Emancipator._ We are going after the _Finalizer_."

" _Eviscerator_ is powering up the auxiliary drives that are still intact," a sensor officer observed.

"They are going to pursue us," Parsons said sourly. "I would have thought with that damage they'd leave the heavy lifting to the _Finalizer_ for a while."

"Never underestimate the ambition of a First Order commander," Leia said quietly, her calm voice barely audible above the sounds of a starship at war.

"Or their blood lust," Dameron added.

"Or their arrogance," Parson's said, a smile forming on his lips as he leaned over the sensor officer's shoulder. "Commander, look at this."

Dameron walked over to the station, and I followed half a meter behind him. The sensor display showed erratic variations in power coming from the rear of the Star Destroyer.

"I'm not an expert," Parsons admitted, "But that looks like some kind of a feedback loop."

Dameron nodded. "Kylo, do you know what systems failure would cause that?"

I was not an engineer, but I found that understanding ships systems had always come quite easy to me. After all, an interest in starships design was one of a very few things I shared with the man who had considered himself to be my father. Still, the information was almost trivial in nature and it to several seconds of scouring memories with the assistance of the Force. Technical schematics and briefings flowed through my thoughts until I found something relevant. "The aft distribution hub is unable to regulate power flow," I said. "The propulsion grid is charged, yet reactor power continues to be diverted into it. Our attack inflicted more damage than we realized."

 _Our attack._ I inhaled sharply as I recognized the meanings of the words I had used. I may be standing beside them in combat, but I was not one of them. I would never allow such an indignity to befall me.

"Can you do a sensor focus on the propulsion grid?" Dameron asked.

The sensor officer input several commands. "I can't get anything precise through the jamming, but it looks like they have at least three terajoules in the aft capacitors."

Dameron looked at me. "So what happens now?"

I felt a sense of smug satisfaction wash over me. Hux was about to be dealt a truly embarrassing blow as a result of a battle plan I had helped orchestrate. Three terajoules of energy was sufficient to level a large structure. "It will be quite… impressive."

Moments later, a series of sequential explosions raked across the upper aft hull of the Star Destroyer. Sections of heavy armor fractured and tore away as if made of wood. Power couplings were rupturing one by one, the immense amount of energy they released obfuscated by both out distance from the _Eviscerator_ and the vessel's sheer size.

The damage went far beyond what we could observe. For every visible failure, dozens of couplings deep inside the mammoth hull were overloading. The battlecruiser's jamming systems went offline, allowing the _Emancipator's_ penetrating sensors clearly show the destruction taking place deep within the First Order ship.

I could feel the carnage within the ship: thousands withered in agony as they found themselves exposed to superheated plasma. Flesh was torn effortlessly from bone as waves of uncontained energy roiled through to corridors of the Star Destroyer.

Those killed instantly were fortunate. Others found themselves exposed to the cruel vacuum of space, an unforgiving environment which can simultaneously freeze skin and boil blood. Poignant suffering flowed through me as thousands experienced inexpressible anguish before finally succumbing to the inevitable.

Unaccustomed to such sensations, Rey looked dejected. She could feel their pain, but not use it. In time, she would learn.

"Power levels are continuing to fluctuate," the sensor officer announced. "They are trying to reroute systems but I don't think its working."

Despite the distance, the dagger-shaped ship shuddered visibly as one of its main ion engines failed. The thrust nozzle fractured and exploded outward, breaking away from the ship partially shrouded by a wall of flame. Fire and smoke mixed with the cool blue glow of now uncontained ion energy and erupted into a multi-colored cloud of destruction extending more than a thousand meters behind the battlecruiser.

A lesser vessel would have been disintegrated by such catastrophic failure, but the strength and size of a _Resurgent_ class ship allowed it to endure. Nonetheless, the Star Destroyer was critically injured. The blue glow of the remaining engines faded, and lights across the rear third of the ship flickered and died.

The crew was nearly silent as the massive vessel began to rotate slowly towards Ultan's moon. With its propulsion systems incapacitated the _Eviscerator_ found itself no longer able to chart its own path through space; instead gravity had now locked it into an agonizingly slow spiral to the moon's surface.

"We should press our advantage," Welles suggested. "This might be our only chance to take out a _Resurgent_ class ship."

"We can't just abandon Ultan," Rey interjected, drawing a look of disapproval from Welles who did not appreciate being contradicted by a civilian.

Dameron shook his head. "They also still have most of their weapons and shields operational. I think it is best to let gravity do its work."

As if to punctuate his point, laser fire lanced out from the front of the beleaguered Star Destroyer. Thousands of weapons emplacements were still active, but at this distance there were few damaging hits.

I could not help but smile. The loss of the _Eviscerator_ in combat against an inferior force would be a damning scar on the General's record. Such a failure so soon after the loss of Starkiller base would certainly shake the confidence of his men. The loss of another valuable asset could also test the limits of the Supreme Leader's patience.

Hux knew this. The _Finalizer_ was already making a sweeping right hand turn back towards the moon. The General had only one course of action: use his ship's powerful tractor beams to pull the _Eviscerator_ clear of the moon's gravity. For the moment, both _Resurgent_ class ships were out of the battle.

"Keep on course for the planet," Leia commanded, eyeing the tactical display. "Stay clear of the _Finalizer._ "

Yes Ma'am," Keskstra acknowledged, adjusting the _Emancipator's_ course to keep it outside the range of enemy weapons.

Masses of starfighters and the remaining First Order capital ships continued to patrol the system, occasionally closing to within weapons range but hesitant to commit to an engagement without the support of their two battlecruisers. Knowing New Republic reinforcements were enroute, the Resistance forces were perfectly willing to wait.

It took nearly an hour for the _Finalizer_ to pull the _Eviscerator_ safely clear of the moon's gravity, an hour during which apprehension steadily built among the Resistance officers. They knew once the First Order secured the damaged vessel Hux's attention would return to them.

Another thirty minutes elapsed before the wounded Star Destroyer was able bring its secondary hyperdrive online. I assumed a rather abrupt change of command had taken place during this period. There was little tolerance for failure within the First Order, and Hux was particularly unforgiving. I found myself wondering if the General had handled the execution personally. A blaster bolt was a far better end than the incompetent officer deserved, but given the situation Hux may have been willing to forgo torture in preference for expediency.

In the distance the outline of the _Eviscerator_ blinked into nothingness, the battered dreadnaught quietly retreating into hyperspace. The remaining ships began to reform.

"They're moving again," Keskstra announced. "Heading towards us at high sublight."

"Eleven minutes to weapons range," Parsons said from beside the tactical display. He looked over at Leia. "General, I am forced to remind you that we cannot withstand firepower of that magnitude."

"Hold position," Leia said, her voice heavy.

Parsons sighed, but nodded.

"Our convictions are what differentiate us from the enemy," Leia added. "One thing I have learned over decades of conflict: so long as there is hope, you fight."

A/N A short update, but trust me we have some big, exciting chapters coming up. Especially for those who are looking for more Kylo/Rey/Leia interaction. I've already drafted out the next few chapters and they have been very exciting to write: hopefully they will be equally exciting to read!

As always, thank you for follows, faves, views, and especially reviews!


	39. Chapter 38

Despite the commotion on the bridge I was alone with my thoughts, my eyes closed and my mind open. I searched the Force for guidance it refused to provide.

By the most optimistic calculations reinforcements were more than an hour away. If we refused to acquiesce to the First Order's demands, the _Emancipator_ would be reduced to debris long before they arrived. I would either burn alongside the crew of the _Emancipator_ or face indescribable, unmitigated, and unending anguish at the foot of Snoke's throne.

There was, a third option. One of the bridge officer's side arms could quickly eliminate my concerns. Of course, my death would not satiate Hux's desire for prisoners or destruction. That in itself was not compelling; the fact I did not want my final actions to reek of cowardice was.

"Tie fighters incoming, zero-three-zero by one-six-zero," the sensor officer announced, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Green and Black squadrons are moving to intercept," Dameron announced.

" _Finalizer_ is heading towards the _Resolute_ ," Parsons said.

"They are undamaged," Welles observed. "It makes them the greatest threat."

"They still don't have a chance without our help," Dameron said. "Set a course that will bring us along their upper superstructure." He reached down to the comm. "Commander Seastriker, we are going in. I need Gold and Blue squadrons to provide cover."

"Acknowledged, _Emancipator_ ," came the curt reply. It was obvious from his tone the pilot already had his hands full; directing an engagement on the _Finalizer_ would not be easy.

"Weapons range in two minutes," the sensor officer announced.

"Not soon enough," Keskstra said solemnly.

The _Finalizer_ had begun a broadside of the _Resolute_ , hammering away at the old cruiser's shields with an arsenal of Kyber-enhanced turbolasers. A squadron of bombers pummeled the New Republic ship from the other side, further straining its shields.

"Their dorsal shields are collapsing," the sensor officer announced. The _Finalizer's_ bombardment did not waver; the unrelenting turbolasers began to tear apart the hull, cutting through the old ship's armor as if it were fabric.

The return fire from the _Resolute_ began to diminish as weapons emplacements were destroyed or lost power. Sections of exterior lights went dark. The old cruiser rolled around its longitudinal axis as venting atmosphere overpowered its remaining maneuvering thrusters. The ship's main engines flickered briefly before going dormant. Without sufficient speed to escape Ultan's gravity the vessel began to settle towards the surface. Escape pods began to appear in space around the _Resolute_ as those that could fled the doomed vessel.

Realizing that the New Republic ship had been condemned to a fiery death, Hux finally ordered his flagship to cease fire.

"Break off our approach," Leia ordered, her voice trembling as she struggled to deal with the wave of suffering emanating from the dying ship. "There is nothing we can do for them now."

"We have our own problems now," Parsons observed. Moments later the ship shook violently as torpedoes broke through the shields and impacted the stern. Another volley caused the lights to flicker wildly.

The _Resolute_ continued its descent, portions of the hull that had been melted by the _Finalizer's_ withering attack cooling to form strange, twisting sculptures protruding from the vessel's once smooth surface. As it entered the first wisps of Ultan's atmosphere the thin air had a stabilizing effect, arresting the vessels role and for a brief moment the ship appeared upright and in control. It was only an illusion. As the _Resolute_ passed into thicker atmosphere at high speed temperatures began to build. With its structure weakened and shields inoperative, the warship had no chance of surviving reentry.

The lower portion of the hull began to grow a bright orange, and smaller protrusions began to break away. Finally a large section of ventral plating gave way, allowing a plume boiling atmosphere directly into the heart of the ship. The superheated plasma ravaged the vessels delicate interior, tearing through the structure and pushing its way out the top of the vessel. The hull erupted in dozens of places, plumes of flame billowing across its surface. In seconds it was fully engulfed, a massive, burning meteor plummeting towards the planet and trailing a thick cloud of smoke behind it.

What had once been a warship was now a carcass, a burning tomb for thousands that had not escaped.

Another series of explosions rocked the _Emancipator_ as one of the _Imperial_ class ships came within range and opened fire. Leia got to her feet, a familiar expression of pain and loss once again prominent on her face. "We have no choice," she said, the words coming out choked. "Prepare to make the jump to lightspeed."

"Yes, General," Keskstra answered. "Course?"

"Anywhere but here," Dameron said.

Keskstra entered a series of commands. "I'm showing a coolant leak in the main reactor. The internal safeties are locking down the hyperdrive."

"Can you override the safety?" Parsons asked.

"Only if you're willing to blow off the rear third of the ship," Welles replied dryly.

"Well then," Dameron said. "Lieutenant, bring us around to two-six-one mark four-two, and match the speed of that Star Destroyer." Kesktra acknowledged, and the _Emancipator_ began a leisure turn away from the _Finalizer_ and back towards one of the _Imperial_ class ships. Dameron intended to put the smaller Star Destroyer between us and the _Finalizer_ , using it as a shield. A shield that itself possessed a substantial amount of firepower.

"That will buy us two minutes at most," Dameron said. "Any additional orders, General?" He looked at Leia, his expression strangely calm. It was an expression I had seen on his face before. The look of a man to arrogant to accept his death but to intelligent to cling to hope.

"Inform the fleet—" Leia's instructions were cut off as a volley of concussion missiles impacted the forward hull, violently shaking the cruiser. "Tell them to make the jump to hyperspace."

Dameron nodded, and reached down to activate the comm. "All ships, retreat. Reconvene at the designated rendezvous point in six hours."

Seastriker's voice crackled over the comm. "You're leaking coolant. I can see the cloud from here."

"We're aware," Dameron replied, unable to hide the stain in his voice. "Withdraw: that is a direct order from General Organa."

"You're not getting rid of us that easily," Seastriker replied. "We aren't going anywhere."

"Black squadron stays with its commander," another pilot said.

Leia reached down to the arm of her chair, activating her comm. "Our work is more important than any one of us," she said, her voice quiet but strong despite the turmoil and sadness ravaging her from within. "The best you can do for any of us is complete our work."

 _Complete our work_. It was ironic, I thought, that we finally had something in common. We would both die with our goals incomplete. I was once again staring into the void, everything I had worked for, everything I desired, everything I was supposed to be… all slipping away. Years of toil, oceans of blood, all culminating in exactly nothing.

I was not concerned by the prospect of death, but I was terrified of weakness. Rey had seen through my façade since our first encounter. She had recognized the deepest fear I possessed was not being strong enough to reach my destiny. She could see the sense of inadequacy that plagued my soul. Rey, the only other being in the Galaxy who might have the strength to complete the work of Darth Vader. Who would draw her final breath at the same time I drew mine.

But what if she could succeed where I failed. What if my defeat on Starkiller base was not due to my wounds or indecision, but the product of her strength? Maybe the Force did not intend for her to assist me; it desired that she do what I could not.

It seemed improbable. She still sought guidance from those that refused to admit the truth, those that had fought so hard to keep me from my one true path. But destiny could be hard to ignore, and embracing the most unlikely chance for victory was still better than accepting defeat.

I drew myself to my full height and turned to Leia, my mind resolved, my fate accepted. "Contact General Hux," I instructed, speaking quickly. "Inform him you are ready to deliver what he wants."

Dameron's mouth dropped open slightly, and Leia's eyes widened noticeably. "That is not acceptable," she said gruffly.

"Contact Hux," I repeated firmly.

Leia was silent for several seconds. The _Emancipator_ rocked again, the latest volley of turbolasers fire dislodging an overhead panel. A bridge officer screamed as a power conduit erupted in sparks, burning her face.

"He's right Leia," Dameron said. "Maybe the New Republic will get here before we complete the transfer."

"Maybe," Leia conceded, tears forming in her eyes, her voice trembling. "But there has to be another-"

"I'm sorry," Dameron said, placing his right hand on Leia's shoulder. "I… I wish there was." The sincerity in Dameron's voice matched his thoughts. He knew what was at stake, and what it meant to his commander.

Leia glanced at the floor, then stood upright. "Contact—." She inhaled sharply, a visceral reaction to the pain coursing through her. "Contact the _Finalizer_."

Dameron sprinted to the communications panel. " _Finalizer_ ," he broadcast on all frequencies, "We are prepared to hand over the prisoner."

The ship rocked again as series of concussion missiles impacted the hull. "Aft targeting scanners off-line," Welles said. "We can't take much more of this!"

Leia stood silently by her command chair, awash in despair that threated to asphyxiate her like a toxic cloud. The eyes that had once been full strength were cold and pale, decades of strength and resolve washed away in an instant. She trembled visibly before collapsing into her seat, he head slowly sinking into her palms.

"We are prepared to hand over Kylo Ren!" Dameron repeated. "Halt your attack so we can make preparations."

It took several more seconds, but finally the Star Destroyer's turbolasers fell silent. Tie fighters and bombers arced away from the _Emancipator_ , heading towards holding patterns in open space. The Resistance vessels followed suit, and a calm stillness embraced space over Ultan.

"It wasn't long enough," she whispered, her words barely audible over the work of repair crews struggling to keep bridge systems functional. "All I ever wanted was for us to be family again."

Han Solo was dead. As was her son. What she described was not a dream but a farce. Her sorrow was only exceeded by her ignorance. I dropped to one knee beside her chair, prepared to tell her once more that her desires were nothing but an ignorant fantasy. I would reaffirm my commitment to the darkness and draw strength from her agony. It was the way of the dark side.

As I stared into her eyes I found myself reluctant to speak. She reached out with her right hand, letting her fingers gently caress my scarred cheek. I could feel her suffering. It spread through her like a ravenous disease, tearing her apart in a way no physical ailment could.

And to my surprise, I found no solace in it. The anguish flowed through me, but it brought no strength. My lips parted and I inhaled, trying to understand the caustic sensations that permeated my being.

"Sometimes," I whispered, unsure if she could hear, "What we desire is not meant to be." I walked away from her, leaving my words to be interpreted as she desired.

I said we'd be getting back to the Leia/Kylo relationship soon! For all his bluster, Kylo can't quite turn his back on his mother's feelings. But he can't embrace them either.

As always, thank you to those that have taken the time to read, favorite, follow, and review. It is a high point of my day to get a new review, and I sincerely thank all of you that have taken the time to let me know your thoughts!


	40. Chapter 39

"You will deliver the traitor to the designated coordinates in thirty minutes," the First Order officer said sharply. "Failure to comply will result in your destruction." The transmission ended before Dameron could acknowledge the instructions.

"They want to conduct the prisoner transfer on the surface?" Rey asked in confusion.

"Security precaution," Dameron said. "They don't want to chance us hiding a bomb or commando team on a shuttle and sending it over to their ship."

"Such duplicity is a hallmark of the Resistance," I said.

"I'm not about to cede the high ground to someone who began their career by slaughtering children," Dameron replied darkly.

"He is sacrificing himself for us," Rey pointed out.

"If you're going to die either way… it's not really a sacrifice," Dameron said.

"Death is not an accurate characterization of Snoke's intentions," I corrected.

"He _won't_ kill you?" the pilot asked suspiciously.

I closed my eyes briefly. I had seen what had happened to those that had incurred the personal wrath of the Supreme Leader. I had also seen what was left of them when his thirst for vengeance was finally quenched. "He will torture me in ways beyond your comprehension. With a ferocity that defies definition. A relentless agony so intense that cells themselves begin to break down, and if not for his efforts to prolong the suffering my body itself would become dust. He can shred apart very essence of your being so that the barrier between psychological and psychological ceases to exist."

I swallowed, careful to control my own apprehension. I had learned to control my fear, to harness it. But that did not mean I was comfortable accepting the terror which I was about to face. "When he is finally done what is left is not a corpse," I said quietly, "but the raw elements from which our bodies are formed. The atoms from which I am made shall be returned to the cosmos as if I never were."

Dameron frowned. "When you put it that way…" The pilot swallowed. He walked several steps towards a nearly catatonic Leia, gently placing his hand on the General's shoulder. "We need to get to the hangar bay."

"I'm going with you," Leia said, the first words she had spoken in minutes.

"Out of the question," Parsons said firmly. "If the First Order discovers your presence, they will insist that you be turned over to them as well."

A familiar fire began to return to her eyes. "If that happens, so be it."

"General-"

Leia cut her intelligence officer's protest off abruptly. "I have made my decision."

Parsons pressed his lips together and nodded with obvious reluctance. "Good luck, Ma'am."

Welles brought himself to his feet. "May the Force be with you, General."

Slowly the rest of bridge crew came to their feet. Silently they bid their commander what could be a final farewell as she led the way to the hangar.

Dameron took the pilots seat, with Rey next to him. Leia and I sat silently in jump seats as Dameron completed his preflight preparations. The shuttle began to vibrate as Dameron brought the repulsor drives online and gently edged the vessel out of the hangar bay. Once clear of the _Emancipator_ the pilot brought the main engines online and set a course towards the surface.

What had been a sky full of light and fire was now silent. The _Finalizer_ hung menacingly in the distance, a colossal dagger dwarfing everything around it. The shuttle's path would take it within weapons range my former ship, and I wondered if Hux would take the opportunity to open fire. Such an action would be a clear violation of Snokes instructions: the Supreme Leader wanted the pleasure of overseeing my demise personally. If Hux could think of some way to explain the transgression, he would certainly take action.

The turbolasers remained silent as we passed. "Atmospheric entry," Dameron said.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Leia asked quietly from beside me.

"You've always doubted my resolve far too much," I replied, careful to keep any emotion out of my voice.

"It's not doubt," she answered. "I simply…"

"She wants you to change your mind," Rey said after Leia trailed off. "She's not sure if she can live with letting you do this."

"It's a moot point now," Dameron said, gesturing out the cockpit window. A pair of Tie Fighters had formed up on each side of the shuttle, obviously prepared to hasten our demise should anything abnormal occur.

Leia looked at me, her eyes glistening. "Perhaps if I offered myself instead."

"Your life would be forfeit as well," I said.

"I… I can't go on knowing you're in pain."

I raised my head slightly and tilted it to the right. "But you did so well for so long," I replied, my voice falsely soothing.

Leia's breathing became ragged as tried to hold back tears, the lines on her face growing in prominence as sadness spread across her aging features.

The shuttle bounced slightly as it began to reach thicker layers of Ultan's atmosphere. Dameron arced the craft expertly to the left to counteract a Jetstream current and keep us on course.

"I can never apologize enough," Leia said. "I was supposed to keep you safe. It was the only job that ever mattered, and I failed. And I will regret that for eternity."

"Your failings allowed me to see truth and find my destiny," I said. "You freed me to become what I am today. And for that…" I paused, lowering my gaze to match hers. "I thank you."

Here wet eyes widened slightly, my words tearing through her like a blade. Sadness burst forth from her, the ferocity of depression almost indescribable. I had prepared myself for it; still, somewhere I felt a twinge of regret for eliciting such despair.

Rey left her seat and kneeled beside Leia, wrapping her right arm around the General's shoulders and squeezing Leia's palm with her free hand. After several seconds she leered at me, her own face contorted as she struggled not to succumb to the agony that was washing over her.

The shuttle began to decelerate as the surface approached, and Dameron brought the vessel into an arcing right turn that would place it in an open field. Two of the Tie Fighters shot past, setting up a patrol around the area. The dark outline of an _Upsilon_ class shuttle was easily visible on the ground.

The shuttle settled to the ground two hundred meters from the First Order craft, perfectly aligned with the black ship. I slowly rose to my feet, sensing the unmistakable presence of Marxon Ren. I began walking towards the ramp, but Rey grabbed my arm firmly.

"How could you say that to her?" the young woman demanded.

I raised an eyebrow. "I thanked her."

"You knew what it would do to her. She wanted something to hang on to, something to remember her son by, and instead you tore out her heart."

"Her son is dead," I hissed. "And I am not here for her."

Rey's eyes widened slightly as she realized the meaning in my words. "Me?"

"You are the only one who can complete my work," I stated frankly. "The only one who has the power to bring order to chaos. It will be—"

" _I AM NOTHING LIKE YOU,_ " she erupted, a wave of revulsion passing through her. "I will do no such thing."

My lips twitched slightly as I processed the fury of her rejection. "Without my guidance your path may prove elusive, but in time—"

"No!" She interrupted again.

I glanced at the deck, fear of failure once again razing my thoughts. I had expected the resistance, but—perhaps foolishly-not the loathing.

I looked back at her. The antipathy in her eyes instilled further doubts that she would ever see the truth. "Do not be so quick to turn your back on your destiny."

"You turned away from yours!" Rey shot back. "You let a desire for power turn you away from those who cared for you. Everyone who loved you."

I gritted my teeth, fighting against the introspection that light threatened to bring forward. "Love is not destiny!" I spat.

"You try to justify what you've done. But you know you can't. Ben Solo is not dead; he's buried beneath an avalanche of rationalization and lies."

My eyelids suddenly felt heavy. I let them fall and inhaled gently, turning away from Rey. My convictions were not so simple, yet I could not help the feeling of doubt growing within me. "What does it matter now?"

"It just does," she said quietly. She came up beside me, putting her hand in mine and surprised to find it trembling. "I can feel the good in you," she said quietly.

She was right. The pull of the light was strong, but if I accepted it, it would mean living with the atrocities I had committed. I would be accepting _their_ definition of right and wrong, and if I did that how could I survive? How could someone who embraces the ideology of the Resistance—of the _Jedi_ —live with the deaths of billions on their conscience?

No, there was no other path. She knew that as well as I. My eyes snapped open and I pulled away abruptly. "Hope, love; that is all you ever discuss." I took a step forward, towering over her. "You play with my memories, my emotions… you try to break me, BUT I WILL NOT FALL!" I snarled. For all her claims of compassion, she was merely toying with me. She was the only one who could truly feel my confliction, inadequacy, and confusion. And she used that perception to tear apart what I was. She knew my weakness, and she intended to exploit it.

It had been irrational to think she would ever assist me of her own free will. It had been even more foolish to think she could somehow complete the work of Darth Vader. Her mind had been too badly poisoned by the forces of the light to comprehend what must be done.

But she would understand the steel of my resolve.

A/N: Life has been busy, but hopefully the wait was worth it. Thank you again, and I look forward to hearing from you!


	41. Chapter 40

I did not speak again before exiting the shuttle. I could hear Dameron and Leia arguing, the former threatening to restrain his commander if she attempted to leave the vessel. Her visage was well known amongst the First Order, and once her identity was established she would inevitably be taken into custody.

Rey followed behind me, careful not to get to close. She could feel the resentment oozing through me, my anger at her attempt to blind me to my true purpose still raw. My disappointment in her efforts to rebuff the truth still fresh.

I stopped walking forward as the _Upsilon's_ ramp extended amidst the swirl of various gasses. Six white-clad Stormtroopers exited the First Order shuttle, forming orderly lines to either side of the ramp.

I drew myself to my full height as Marxon exited the shuttle, my eyes staring blankly in his general direction, my face blank. My breathing was short and shallow as I sought to master the anger and animosity I felt upon seeing my former student. A man who I had created from nothing would now intended to be an integral part of my end.

The Stormtroopers fell into step behind Marxon as he strode forward, his cape swirling menacingly around his feat, the chrome of his black helmet glinting in the sun. Six more Stormtroopers emerged from the ship, taking defensive positions alongside vessel. A pair of tie fighters roared overhead, another carefully considered reminder of who was now in control.

Marxon stopped three meters from me, his helmet hiding any expressions. Unseen eyes scanned my face for several seconds. He was seeing his former master's eyes for the first time. In training I had kept myself concealed in order to promote my anonymity. Though Ben Solo had never sought recognition, his image was invariably a matter of public record.

More importantly, the mask hid my thoughts and emotions. It created a facade of control and decisiveness that I could project to my students and subordinates.

"I did not expect you do cooperate," he said at last, the mechanically modulated voice eliminating any hint of emotion.

"My cooperation is contingent on the First Order's," I reminded him, matching his emotionless tone without the aid of a helmet.

"You are in no position to make demands," he replied tersely. Despite his words, I could sense his fear. He knew my power. And he knew a man facing his death had little to lose. Despite the troops by his side and the fighters overhead, I was a threat.

"He is a prisoner of the Resistance," Dameron said as he came up beside me. "His cooperation doesn't matter. What is important is that you adhere to the agreement we made."

The helmet turned painfully slowly towards Dameron. "You represent the Resistance?"

"I do," the pilot confirmed. "Commander Poe Dameron." Evidently Leia had agreed to remain behind and let her subordinate do the talking. "I'm assuming you are the representative the First Order for the prisoner transfer?"

Marxon ignored the question. "Why is your prisoner not in restraints?"

"They have not been necessary," Dameron replied.

"You are unwise to trust him." The helmet turned back towards me. "Vermin belongs on a leash."

"I see you are as much as a coward as always, Marxon," I said with carefully controlled contempt.

"I will not be called a coward by one who has betrayed all they once held dear in order to hide from their failures."

My cheek twitched as I fought the urge to reach at and strangle the Knight.

"Once he is in your custody you may do as you wish," Dameron interrupted. "But first you will confirm our agreement."

"His word is meaningless," I said. "Seek confirmation from General Hux."

I could sense the flare of anger erupt from Marxon. He resented any implication that he was subordinate to the General. The Knight took a step forward, his right hand caressing the lightsaber on his belt. "You may either relinquish your prisoner, or die alongside him."

I did not flinch. "The First Order chose to capture me by intimidating an entire world. You could have challenged me in person, but you feared my power. Instead you allow others to manipulate events that would force my capitulation." I looked at Dameron, who shifted with obvious uncertainty. "Even now, he threatens you rather than risk a confrontation with me."

"The Supreme Leader's instructions-"

"You are weak," I cut him off. "You always have been."

Marxon responded with a cold laugh. "On the contrary, I have been appointed as the new leader of the Knights of Ren." The voice modulation still allowed for a hint of smug pride.

Dameron cocked an eyebrow. "Your parents must be very proud of you," he offered.

"I commend his wisdom," I replied. "It would have been foolish to appoint another with power that rivals his own."

"I do not value the words of a _traitor._ "

"Yet I feel your doubt," I said more forcefully. "You know what I say is true."

"I trust in the Supreme Leader," Marxon replied. "His guidance and power flow through me."

"You once trusted in me," I said, my mouth twitching upward to half smile before I suppressed the impulse.

"And I don't trust either of you," Dameron said. "I want a final assurance from General Hux that my people will be allowed to leave and no one on Ultan will be harmed."

"Do not test my patience, Commander," Marxon scolded, taking a step towards the pilot. "You will both die here if you refuse to cooperate." The dark helmet turned to me. "I would hate to disappoint the Supreme Leader. He is looking forward to seeing you again."

"He has more to gain than he realizes," I said.

"There will be no forgiveness," Marxon snapped. "You are a traitor and a coward," he continued, sounding strangely unsettled. He knew my return would likely result in my execution, but if Snoke somehow elected grant me clemency it could threaten his recent promotion. "Leader Snoke will not ignore your transgressions," he continued.

"I will survive so long as I am of value." I was silent for a moment. I knew what had to be done, yet the strength was fleeting. The merciless pull of the light once again entering my thoughts and tearing apart my carefully controlled emotions. I bit down on my cheek, finding it still raw from the frequent mutilation that my time with these people had required.

The pain pushed back against the vulnerability, but the confliction remained. But the truth was self-evident: I either took action to achieve my destiny, or accepted it had never actually existed. Despite the doubt, I would not shed my convictions. I had made a commitment.

I would complete the work of Darth Vader. "And I will prove my value," I said gently.

With no mask to hide behind I struggled to contain my thoughts. Aside from a slight facial tick I gave no visible indication of my internal confliction, but I was unsure what those around me could sense. I could not give them time to prepare. I had to move before they could react.

My fingers opened slightly, almost imperceptibly. Rey sensed something change, but she was not prepared. The lightsaber on her belt was in my hand before she could react.

Marxon stepped backward, igniting and raising his own weapon in preparation to defend himself. Its shimmering blade was a darker red color than I recalled it, suggesting the Knight had secured a new Kyber crystal. The troopers obediently raised their weapons but held their fire.

I stepped back as well, moving outside the arc of Marxon's blade but resisting the urge to activate the weapon I now firmly grasped.

The black-clad knight could sense my reluctance to attack, and it confused him. "The saber," he said. "Give it to me."

"As much as I would enjoy engaging you in combat," I said, my voice cold and dispassionate as I forced all emotions away from my conscious thoughts, "that was not my intention. You see, it would be unwise to leave a prisoner armed."

Marxon contemplated my words for several seconds. "Explain."

I pushed aside the light, focusing instead on my salvation. My path forward.

Slowly I turned towards Rey. "I have a gift for the Supreme Leader."

I know it's a short chapter, but life has been crazy-and I'm a fan off cliff hangers. And this a pretty big one: Kylo was not kidding when he said Rey would see the steel of his resolve! The darkness is not so easily banished, but as you can see Kylo is not finding the path easy.

As always, thank you to everyone who takes the time to read, like, and fave! And I really want to thank those who have taken the time to review, including Dirtkid123, Fern Haddock, Jkleeberger22, Khalthar, PrincessStarberry, MarieBloom14, Earial13, and KiereSolo. It means so much for you take the time and share your thoughts about the story! Thank you!


	42. Chapter 41

Rey's eyes widened. "You duplicitous, tyrannical, self-serving… monster!" she yelled through her sneer. I could feel her tugging at her lightsaber, but she was unable to overcome my grip.

"Not going to happen Kylo." Dameron reached for his sidearm, only to find it mysteriously locked in its holster.

I looked at Rey, hoping my discomfort was adequately hidden. I would never convince her to abandon her weakness if I could not vanquish my own. "You refuse to accept what must be done," I said. "Perhaps you will find the Supreme Leader more persuasive."

"Are you really willing to sacrifice people who care for you to serve the desires of some evil despot?" Rey demanded. "That is not what you are. What you _really are_."

"We are what our situation makes us," I replied tersely. "I do what must be done, and I have never suggested my intentions are otherwise."

"Your intentions have been so warped by Snoke you don't know what they are anymore!" Rey yelled.

I bit down on my cheek once more, seeking calm in the pain. "Confusion is a sign of the light. The Darkness brings clarity and focus."

"Think carefully about this Kylo," Dameron said, stepping between Rey and I. I flicked my wrist, and he found himself pushed backwards by invisible hands, tumbling across the ground before coming to rest twenty meters away. He groaned loudly as he slowly got to his feet.

"I will never serve you," Rey said, turning back to me once she was confident her friend was not badly injured. "I will certainly never serve Snoke."

"I… _we_ have the chance to influence _trillions_ ," I answered calmly. "To make the Galaxy what it is meant to be. Would you reject such an opportunity so casually?"

Her eyes failed to hide her anguish. She had convinced herself that somehow I would be redeemed. That it was not only possible, but inevitable that I would turn back to the light. And now her fantasy was shattering like fractured glass. "You influence them through pain and suffering. I'll have no part of it."

"You will do as the Supreme Leader decides," Marxon said, stepping towards Rey. His helmet turned towards one of the Stormtroopers. "Put them on the ship. Restrain them both."

"That was not our agreement," Leia said from behind us, her voice strong and commanding. Evidently she had sensed the discord outside and disregarded her pledge to remain out of site.

"General Leia Organa," Marxon said slowly, doing an admirable job of hiding his surprise at seeing the infamous Resistance leader. The weak minded fool had been so focused on me he had not even sensed her. Had Leia been more of an adept combatant, it would have been a fatal mistake on his part. "I did not alter our agreement," he stated. "Your prisoner did."

Her brow furrowed and her eyes bored into me. "Ben?"

I unconsciously licked my lips as my mind struggled to formulate an answer. I had no need to respond to her, but for some reason I felt compelled to do so. "She will be able to unleash the power that she has," I replied. "There is no other way to recognize her potential." Though powerful and firm, my voice sounded uncertain, even to my own ears.

"You have no right to make that decision for her," Leia replied. Despite the anger in her voice, she could not hide the growing sadness within her.

"It is no longer his decision to make," Marxon said coldly.

Leia's hard expression faltered briefly, her mind swirling with the realization she was about to lose Rey, having yet to fully except my own departure. "General Hux-"

"General Hux does not speak for me," the masked man cut her off sharply. "He was also not aware of your presence here." The dark helmet swiveled towards one of the Stormtroopers. "Take the General into custody as well, and prepare a communication channel with the Supreme Leader. I want to inform him of his prize."

"Absolutely not!" Dameron said, rushing towards one of the white-clad troopers that was guiding Leia towards the towering shuttle. The trooper did not hesitate, catching Dameron squarely in the stomach with a gloved hand.

The pilot stumbled but recovered quickly. Still, by the time he was back on his feet another trooper had drawn his weapon. "You may return to your ship, or join us on ours," Marxon said.

Dameron paused, his anger and sense of loyalty clouding his view of reality. Finally he recognized there was nothing he could do for Leia and Rey if he shared in their incarceration. He stepped away from the troopers. "I will never forget this Kylo," he said quietly, his voice calm but laced with malice.

I ignored him and turned back towards Marxon. "Rey is dangerous. You would be wise to allow me to assist you."

"She will be restrained," Marxon said, taking a step towards me. He was shorter than me, but not by much. The top of his helmet was level with my hair. "I do not need the assistance of a traitor." He reached out his left hand, obviously waiting for me to surrender the lightsaber. I handed him the weapon without further protest.

One of the Stormtroopers approached me, holding out a familiar device. The handcuffs contained a calibrated charge coil that could be commanded to release an electric pulse that would punish, incapacitate, or kill the wearer. Though I personally resorted to other means when interrogating my prisoners, the devices were known to be quite effective at ensuring cooperation from captives. The painful disfigurement they could leave on a prisoner's wrists served as a permanent reminder of what it meant to oppose the First Order.

I reluctantly raised my arms, allowing the trooper to slip the restraint over my hands and secure it around my wrists. A mechanical locking mechanism ratcheted shut, firmly grasping my skin and eliminating any chance of removal without first severing my hand. The trooper unceremoniously forced my arms together and bound the wrist units tightly to each other.

Beside me Rey was fitted with a similar device, wincing slightly as the cold metal cuffs clamped down on her delicate skin. Leia was restrained with more conventional cuffs; either the old woman was not deemed a serious threat or they had only brought two of their torture devices with them.

Marxon motioned towards the shuttle, and each of us was propelled towards the boarding ramp by a pair of troopers. First order procedure prohibited high value prisoners from communicating with one another while in transit, so Leia was placed in the aft passenger compartment while Rey was escorted to the forward compartment. Marxon reluctantly ordered me into a jumpseat on the flight deck as it was the only remaining option that would keep me isolated from the other captives.

One of the Stormtroopers settled into the other jumpseat, his weapon laid casually across his lap but aimed squarely at my chest. We were immediately behind the two flight officers who were already preparing for departure. The lights flickered briefly as the main drives were brought online, the steady hum of the powerful ion engines filling the cockpit.

The copilot gradually lifted the vessel into the air, turning slowly towards the East in order to set up for an optimal trajectory to intercept the _Finalizer_. I could see Dameron standing alone before his ship. I could not see his expression, but his rage easily flowed across the distance between us.

The massive wing struts extended to the flight position, and the ship began to accelerate briskly. The Tie Fighters formed up around the shuttle, and we were approaching the thermosphere when one of the stormtroopers approached me.

"Master Ren requires your presences in the communications room."

The communications room of an _Upsilon_ shuttle was really more of an alcove set to one side of the flight deck, designed to provide senior officers with sufficient privacy to handle high-level communications. It had less than two square meters of floor space, with nearly a third of that being taken up by a high-resolution holoprojector.

Marxon stepped out as I approached, wordlessly motioning me inside. He closed the soundproof door behind me, leaving me alone with the projector. Moments later it flicked to life.

In contrast to his usual oversized image, this hologram of Snoke stood barely forty centimeters tall. Still, I immediately dropped to one knee and bowed my head in deference. "Supreme Leader," I addressed him softly.

"Kylo Ren," the monster's voice crackled slowly, the deep guttural tone emotionless yet disapproving at the same time.

I waited for what felt like an eternity, knowing those cold, dark eyes were burrowing into my bowed head. My mind raced, unsure how to react. My hands were wet with failure, my actions inexcusable. If Snoke expected me to know what to say, I was failing at that as well.

"Your departure created many problems for the First Order," he finally said. I raised my head slowly but remained in a crouched position. This ensured that the small hologram remained above me.

"Supreme Leader, I-"

Snoke cut me off by raising a boney finger. "You have been gone less than a week. Yet the crew of a supply ship stands accused of treason, more than one hundred Tie Fighters are destroyed, and a powerful Battlecruiser disabled."

"I brought you the girl," I interjected quickly.

"Which is why you are speaking to me now. Your willingness to provide prisoners suggests the possibility of… redemption."

"I will prove my value to the First Order, and my loyalty to you," I said firmly.

"Perhaps," Snoke said, almost wistfully. He paused for several seconds, leaving me to wonder if he did indeed desire that I serve him once more. Despite the apparent contemplation, I knew Snoke had already made his decision about my future. Still, I found myself unconsciously holding my breath.

"You're service is not yet over," he finally relented. "It will, however, take a different form. You will rejoin the Knights of Ren under the direct supervision of Marxon."

I winced slightly, knowing that Marxon saw me as a threat to his new position. He would you every available opportunity to sew distrust for me in Snoke's mind. He would also try to impede my progress in other matters. "Such close observation will make training the girl challenging."

"The girl's training is not your concern," Snoke said abruptly.

I leaned back slightly, resisting the urge to rise to my feet. "But I… I was to be her teacher," I stammered.

"And expose her to your independent thoughts?" The Supreme Leader asked as he leaned forward.

"But Supreme Leader," I protested, "her training should be my responsibility. I brought her here, and—" _She trusts me._ The words died in my throat as I realized they no longer held any meaning. Still, I knew her better than anyone else who could complete her training. I understood how she thought. I could still convince her to serve the darkness… I just needed time.

"I did not require your counsel before your treason," the hologram said forebodingly. "I certainly have no interest in it now."

I winced as a sharp pain of recognition sliced through me like a vibroblade. Snoke was no fool. Her knew the power Rey and I possessed together was a threat to his control. He never had any intention of letting me oversee her training, even before I had given him reason to doubt my loyalty.

"Do not misconstrue my mercy for forgiveness," Snoke said darkly. "I miscalculated the strength of your loyalty," he said in a rare admission of error. "I will not do so again."

The hologram shimmered for a moment and disappeared. I rose slowly to my feet, recognizing that whatever standing I had earned, whatever trust he had in me—was gone. My thoughts were irrelevant. I was to be a mindless automaton expected to execute my master's orders without contemplation. I had been reduced to a Force wielding storm trooper.

I had stood at the apex of power, the heir apparent of the First Order. Now I was simply a tool of the Supreme Leader. An inconsequential, disposable tool.

 _When he gets what he wants, he'll crush you_.

The words echoed in my mind. Even the most foolish of men occasionally spoke the truth.

A/N: As always, thank you for the favs, views, follows, and especially reviews!


	43. Chapter 42

I returned to the flight deck to find the shuttle clearing the upper atmosphere and beginning its acceleration to orbital velocity. From there the pilots would calculate an intercept course for the _Finalizer._ In fifteen minutes I would step aboard that ship once more; but this time I would not be a leader. I was now a servant, indentured to use my power without question or face annihilation at the hands of Snoke.

The uncertainty crushed down on me once more. A cauldron of apprehension and doubt boiled deep inside as I faced the reality of the situation. I had betrayed everyone that valued, cared for me… loved me. Instead I chose to serve one who accepted me only because of my power. Such emotional considerations were a weakness thrust upon me by the light, but I found myself unable to shake them.

I was destined to etch an indelible mark on the Galaxy, one that would survive for all eternity. The Force had made this clear to me. I could never have accomplished this through the Republic; the idea of myself as a leader within the Resistance was equally laughable. I could never be one of them: my values and beliefs fundamentally conflicted with their own. The future Leia saw was simply not possible. I would never-I could never serve the Resistance.

My willingness to turn Rey over to Snoke was predicated on the belief that it was a necessary step on the path to my destiny. It was not something I did merely to prolong my existence, but in order to achieve what must be done. I had a duty to push aside any emotional attachments and acquiesce to the will of the Force.

And now…. I was another pawn in Snoke's game. Another weapon in his grand arsenal. The vision that defined me was crumbling. My ambitions were irrelevant to the Supreme Leader, my aspirations inconsequential. I had been willing to sacrifice every to accept the path laid out before me by the First Order; but I was no longer sure where that path would lead.

I had not noticed I was clenching my jaw until one of my molars shifted slightly, sending a welcome shot of pain through my spine. I exhaled slightly as the throbbing calmed the turmoil within. Still, I could not stay the chill of reality that settled across me. Bumps rose on my skin as I realized that the Dark Warrior was evaporating, soon to be replaced by some weak and brittle shadow of what I had once been.

"Six new targets in system!" the co-pilot announced urgently, bringing my thoughts back to the present situation.

Marxon stood, walked forward, and leaned against the back of the co-pilot's seat as he studied the displays. "The reinforcements Hux was concerned about," he mused softly before turning to me. "Were you aware of this?"

There was no point in denying the truth: I doubted Rey would conceal my knowledge of the New Republic's plans. "I was told about the _Vision_ ," I admitted.

"And you simply failed to mention one of the most powerful warships in the Galaxy was on its way to oppose us?" Marxon asked incredulously.

I did not answer. There was no convincing defense: The moment I had pledged my to the First Order I should have provided any critical information I possessed.

My mind struggled to comprehend why I had said nothing. Had the importance of the knowledge been lost amidst the seismic swings of my emotions, or had I subconsciously hoped that the Republic would be able to intervene?

It mattered little now. Full and complete disclosure was required by the First Order. Anything less was tantamount to treason and could shake the delicate relationship I had with the Supreme Leader. A relationship Marxon eagerly wanted to see come to an end.

The dark helmet swiveled towards me. "You deceived me, Kylo Ren."

"I serve the Supreme Leader," I answered sharply. I nodded towards my handcuffs. "If I am again a Knight, these should be removed."

"You serve me!" Marxon corrected harshly. "I have full authority over you, or did you not understand Leader Snoke's instructions?"

Seething resentment burned within me as I returned Marxon's gaze with a stare as emotionless as his mask. I knew he could sense the anger washing over me, but I would not give him the pleasure of seeing me lose control.

Not until I was ready to crush him. I felt the fire growing within. I was not ready to go quietly into the night, to cede what I was to this reprobate.

" _Finalizer_ is maneuvering for the jump to lightspeed," the pilot interrupted. "They can't hold off the Republic ships long enough for us to come aboard so they want us to rendezvous with them at sight Sigma Four."

"Begin the calculations," Marxon ordered. He looked over his shoulder, back towards me. "The restraints will be removed when you have gained _my_ trust."

Marxon returned his focus to the tactical display, watching as the First Order fleet prepared to retreat. With his focus elsewhere, I sensed my only opportunity. With my hands still bound it would be challenging to overcome him by force, but that was not the only option.

I closed my eyes and reached out to Rey. The connection between us was tenuous, and despite Marxon's distraction any message between us would be subject to interception. Any information I gave her had to be simple and innocuous.

 _Six Two Alpha cross Six One Bravo_

Rey did not reply. That was prudent: any response would risk alerting Marxon to our attempted conversation. Still, I found myself uneasily wondering if she had understood. I had only discovered the strange idiosyncrasy of the _Upsilon_ shuttles by chance. If she could not see what I was trying to accomplish she might not attempt it. And if her trust in me was so fractured that she completely disregarded my message…

" _Scythe_ just made the jump to hyperspace," the pilot reported as one of the _Imperial_ class ships disappeared into the darkness. "We'll be ready in less than thirty seconds."

Marxon nodded, scanned the tactical display again. The _Vision's_ task force was closing in on the _Finalizer_. The helmet turned abruptly as a warning flashed across one of the multi-function displays.

"Sir," the pilot said nervously, "we've lost hyperdrive."

Marxon's sharp breath was audible despite his helmet. "Explain!"

"I… can't sir," the co-pilot said, coming to his feet. "Something sent a power surge to the navicomputer."

"Fix it. NOW!" Marxon said, lunging forward until his mask was centimeters from the co-pilot's face.

The young officer stepped backward involuntarily, nearly tripping over his own chair. "I'm not sure that I can," he said, his tone doing little to conceal his anxiety. "The automated diagnostics are reading a surge, not just a failure." The man swallowed noticeably. "If it caused permanent damage it may need to be replaced, if not… it will still take time." He visibly braced himself for another outburst, but it didn't come.

"Time is of the essence," Marxon said with obvious displeasure. "Signal the _Finalizer_. Instruct them to hold position until we are onboard."

"Yes, sir," the pilot said, complying with the instructions.

The _Finalizer_ did not acknowledge the instruction. Marxon pushed his way past the standing co-pilot so he could access the primary communication panel. "This is Marxon Ren to _Finalizer_. Get me General Hux."

Again no one answered. The _Finalizer_ and its escorts were moving toward deep space now, trying to avoid the Republic fleet that was closing on them. Trails of long range missiles began to fill the emptiness between the fleets, joined by occasional bursts of turbolasers fire.

"If the Republic ships hold course," the co-pilot said, "they'll be positioned between us and the _Finalizer_."

"We won't be able to break through by ourselves," the pilot added nervously.

"We have the resources of the _Finalizer_ at our disposal," Marxon said. His voice was confident, but he could not hide his grim thoughts from me. The _Upsilon_ shuttle had robust defenses, but it was no match for a dreadnaught like _Vision._ "Bring me the prisoners," the Knight said after a moment of contemplation.

The co-pilot nodded and left. Marxon slid into the seat he had previously occupied. His intentions were obvious. "You intend to use them as hostages," I said. "The Republic may not be as concerned with their well-being." The tenuous relationship between the Resistance and Republic was well known: a Republic officer would not make the same sacrifices for Leia that a Resistance leader would.

"They are all weak," Marxon snarled in reply. "They cannot stomach suffering."

It took a great deal of effort to contain my emotions. Marxon intended to torture Leia and Rey until he got what he wanted. And if the Republic did not acquiesce to his demands…

I took a deep breath. A loyal servant of the First Order must be ambivalent to the suffering of anyone who opposes the cause. I could not afford the appearance of divided loyalties.

Marxon reached down to the comm panel again. " _Finalizer,_ " he said angrily, "This is Marxon Ren. Reverse your course."

I felt and heard Leia and Rey's arrival, but did not acknowledge them. Instead, my focus remained on Marxon and the status display before him. The _Finalizer_ had finally sent a transmission, but it was encrypted. I could sense Marxon's confusion as he attempted to decipher the communiqué. His gloved hands danced across the control pad for several seconds as he entered a series of command-level codes. None of them worked.

Despite the overwhelming sensations raging through my mind, the new threat of danger was unmistakable. "Raise shields," I said quietly to Marxon.

"We aren't within range of the Republic ships," he bit back tersely.

"There is a reason Hux does not want you to see his last transmission."

Marxon ignored me, choosing instead to attempt and contact _Finalizer_ again. He never had the chance.

The shuttle shook violently as two of the escorting Tie Fighters opened up with their laser cannons, attacking from above and behind. Without shields, the powerful Sienar-Jaemus cannons easily penetrated the upper armor plating, tearing through the passenger compartments and engineering spaces.

A massive power surge exploded from the co-pilot station, shattering screens and forcing Marxon violently backward into his chair. I covered my eyes with my forearm, shielding them from the shower of sparks that erupted from the control panels. When I opened my eyes again, I saw smoke rising from Marxon's now charred cloak.

Beside Marxon, the pilot had been badly burned by the explosion but was still trying to keep control of the shuttle. His right arm was all but useless. The uniform sleeve had been torn away, exposing the twisted black flesh that had once been an appendage. What skin was still intact had blistered badly.

"Why are they shooting at us?" the officer asked, his voice laced with pain.

I ignored him, instead lunging past Marxon. Reaching over his unconscious form I activated the shields, hoping the scorched controls were still operational. Once that was completed, I immediately began searching his cloak for the control to my restraints. The Knight had made no attempt to hide it; the fool had failed to plan for the possibility of him becoming incapacitated.

Moments later, my hands were free, as were Rey's. I reached down and ripped both lightsabers from the man's belt. I fastened Marxon's weapon to my own belt, and held the saber I had taken Rey in a ready position, my finger hovering millimeters above the activation button. I placed my left hand gingerly against Marxon's helmet, carefully confirming he was unconscious.

His wounds were substantial, but I had neither the time nor the desire to tend to his needs. Instead I applied a Force technique that would ensure he remained unconscious for several more hours. I he expired before he was revived it would simply be payment for his own hubris. I pushed Marxon's limp body aside and took his place at the copilot's station.

The shuttle rocked again, but this time the shields prevented the lasers from reaching the hull. I called up a damage report on one of the displays that was still functioning. Both rear compartments had been lacerated by the initial attack; the troopers that occupied them were now exposed to the vacuum of space. Their armor was never intended for such an environment: they would be dead soon, if they were not already. The explosion in the cockpit had been caused when a laser severed the primary power junction. Several systems had taken damage as a result, but most of the backups were operating properly.

For the first time since she arrived in the cockpit I looked at Rey. "Take the pilot's seat," I instructed. The First Order officer looked at me in confusion, uncertain how I could consider replacing him with a prisoner. Brandishing one of the lightsabers was all it took to get him moving.

Coercing the pilot into giving up his station was simple; convincing Rey to follow my instructions could be far more difficult. "I realize," I said, struggling to find the words to explain why she should listen to me. "I realize that-"

"You've never put anything above self-preservation," she interrupted. "So long as our lives are tied to yours, I'll do what you say. Don't confuse compliance for trust."

I nodded toward her, realizing that, for now, that was all I could ask for. "I appreciate your pragmatism." I scanned the tactical display for a moment. Two of the four fighters that had been serving as escorts were actively maneuvering to fire on us; the other two held a defensive position a few dozen kilometers away. "Bring us around to three-one-one mark four on my mark," I said.

Rey prepared to execute my instructions as I brought the heavy laser cannons online. Each dual laser cannon was far more powerful than the weapons carried by the Tie's, but their mounting position on the shuttle limited their aim. The Tie's could typically rely on their superior maneuverability to remain clear of our ship's firing arc, but the element of surprise was firmly with us.

"You want to fire back?" Rey asked.

"Yes," I confirmed. "We have not maneuvered or fired since their initial attack; that has led to a complacency I intend to exploit." I looked at the tactical display, prepositioned the cannons, and readied the targeting sensors. "Now."

The inertial dampers failed to compensate fully for the abrupt course change, and I heard someone behind slam against a bulkhead. As soon as the targeting reticle fell over the nearest fighter I pulled the trigger, sending four beams of deadly light towards it. Two shots went wide, but the other two impacted squarely in the center of the fighter. Both beams dissipated against the shields, and the fighter began climbing left turn.

The evasive maneuver was too little, too late. All four shots of my second volley found their mark, easily punching through the weakened shields. Two impacted the right solar panel assembly, causing it to explode outward in a blue and purple haze. The other two cut directly though the cockpit, instantly killing the pilot and damaging the powerful ion engines. The fighter began an uncontrollable roll, its speed increasing until the growing centrifugal forces ripped the solar panels from the pylons. Moments the later the engines sputtered and died. The broken remains of the Tie, now caught in Ultan's gravity, began to drift towards the planet.

A/N: As always, thank you for your views, follows, reviews, and any other thoughts you have! It is always great to hear from you!


	44. Chapter 43

"There are still three out there," Rey said.

"I know," I replied grimly. We had demonstrated the lethality of the shuttle's weapons; the remaining ships would be more careful to avoid them. There was no way I could take out all three. We had no choice but to run. "Bring us back to the planet, set the steepest decent angle you can."

"You want to face them in the atmosphere?" Rey asked.

"I would rather not face them at all," I said. "Their shields are not as effective to ours at absorbing the heat of reentry."

Rey nodded in understanding. Despite being faster and more maneuverable than the shuttle in deep space, the fighters had to slow down to survive the heat entering the atmosphere at high speeds.

The three Tie Fighters quickly regrouped and arced around behind us, attempting to avenge their comrade with another volley of fire. The shuttle rocked violently, but weathered the blasts. The status display for the rear shields flickered wildly before settling down.

"Why are they attacking?" Rey asked.

I frowned. "Hux is not willing to allow my capture by the Republic or Resistance," I explained.

"I thought Snoke wanted you alive?"

"He does; but his orders may have authorized my elimination if capture became impossible." I turned slightly toward her. "At least, that appears to be how Hux interpreted his orders." The General would not hesitate to use any ambiguity in his instructions as an excuse to eliminate me. His relationship with me had bordered on hostile at the best of times: now I was a traitor who had dealt him an embarrassing defeat.

"So when the _Vision_ took up a position between us and the _Finalizer_ …" Rey trailed off. Despite all she had seen she could not disguise her visceral reaction to the First Orders callous approach to sacrificing its officer's lives.

I looked back over my shoulder. Leia was seated in one of the jump seats, while the co-pilot stood next to her. His face was bruised, his expression a mixture of confusion and fear. "They are willing to kill us to kill you?" he asked.

"Do you doubt General Hux would hesitate to sacrifice you to eliminate what he perceived as a threat to the First Order?"

The young officer shook his head, his loyalty and enthusiasm giving way to the harsh reality of what he had seen in the service of the First Order. "I never doubted I could be ordered to my death," he said quietly. "I just thought it would be at the hands of the enemy."

His statement was punctuated by another volley of fire hitting the shields.

The shuttle began to buffet as it entered the outer bands of the atmosphere at a higher than usual speed. The forward shields took on a visible red hue as superheated plasma surrounded them. "Keep it steep," I reminded Rey. Her expression did not change and her eyes remained focused on her task, but I could sense a wave of irritation that I had felt the need to repeat the instruction.

As expected, the Ties began to reduce speed. They continued firing, but the long range shots splashed harmlessly against the shields. Finally the shuttle pulled out of their weapons range, allowing me to transfer power from the rear shields forward. This reinforcement allowed Rey to further steepen our descent, and the First Order fighters fell even farther behind.

"What were those relays you had me cross?" Rey asked as the ship continued to buffet.

"One was to a drive motor for the wing, the other was the navigational computer."

"So you had me fry the computer so we couldn't jump," Rey said, seeming almost impressed. "How did you know it would work?"

I hesitated for a moment, knowing she would find the answer unpleasant. "I once held a prisoner against the panel during his interrogation. His convulsions were rather violent and damaged the relays."

"I guess he got some satisfaction out of that," Rey suggested.

"He did not survive to see the results of his inadvertent damage," I replied succinctly, ignoring the sense of contempt I felt flowing off of Rey. "His demise may have saved your life," I pointed out.

"Your interrogation of him, not his death," Rey corrected sharply. "And we haven't seen that yet. We still need a place to land."

"The fighters are only a few minutes behind us," the co-pilot observed from behind us.

"We won't be able to outrun them for long," Leia added.

"Look for steralox," the co-pilot suggested. "It interferes with their sensors. If we can get to cover near a steralox deposit they won't be able to find us from the air."

I stared coldly at the young lieutenant for a moment. The man's willingness to help us was interesting. Despite the situation, officers tended to show reluctance to turn on the First Order. The man was either demonstrating impressive pragmatism or dubious loyalty.

Either way, he had a valid point. The _Finalizer_ was retreating, so they would not be able to deploy ground troops. If we could avoid the fighters, we would survive. "Do it," I told Rey.

Rey began to level the shuttle a kilometer above the surface, commencing a gently right hand turn that minimized any speed loss. The forest rushing past beneath us was dense. "Weapons are operational," I said. "If we cannot find a suitable landing site, we can make one."

"That takes time," Rey replied. "The Ties will be over us less almost as soon as we land."

She was right. We would need to evacuate the shuttle and get to a location where the steralox would shield our life signs before they arrived. Every wasted moment brought the deadly fighters closer.

I could feel a sense of excitement surge through Rey. "There. Two four zero at thirty klicks."

It was strangely shaped clearing with a slight upslope. It was located next to an overgrown outcropping of rocks that showed a high steralox content.

"I'm going to try a run on landing," she said, lining the shuttle up with the clearing as if it were a runway. A pilot flying a normal landing would slow the shuttle to a hover, then orient it to the landing a site and gently touch down. Rey intended to simply fly the shuttle onto the ground at relatively high speed, eliminating any time-consuming maneuvering in her final approach.

"Maximum run-on speed is thirty klicks," the co-pilot said. "Any more than that and you'll rip off the landing struts."

For the first time in what felt like an eternity Rey smiled. "What speed do the wings rip off?"

The young Lieutenant's eyes widened slightly, but he did not reply.

Rey began reducing power, slowing the ship for a final approach. Her eyes flickered around the flight deck, glancing first at me, then Marxon's limp form, then Leia, the co-pilot, and the now unconscious pilot.

She swallowed noticeably, her stress unmistakable. "Brace."

A/N: I know this chapter is ridiculously short, but life has been tough lately in both good and bad ways. Sometimes my writing helps me relax, other times the "muse" doesn't seem to want to come amidst the craziness of everything else. But I wanted to get something posted! Hopefully it makes for some enjoyable reading!

As always, thank you for the views, faves, follows, and other support. A huge thank you for the reviews; getting notifications is a high point of the day!


	45. Chapter 44

I could feel the Force flowing through her as Rey skillfully manipulated the flight controls. It was remarkable: every thought, every movement guided by the ultimate power of the universe. To develop such an intimate relationship with the Force so quickly was exceedingly rare. I knew Skywalker could not have developed such skill in her so quickly; what I was seeing was unbridled potential. She was unique.

I wondered if Skywalker feared her power as much as he had feared mine.

Our speed dropped below two hundred kilometers per hour. Despite the deceleration, the forest canopy below was remained a blur. The ship shook slightly as the right wing clipped the top of an unusually tall tree. Rey corrected effortlessly, nudging the ship back towards the extended centerline of the clearing.

Rey raised the nose slightly, ensuring the inboard-rear section of the wings would be the first part of the ship to touch the ground and thus absorb the brunt of the impact. The speed continued to decay, but the clearing was coming up fast: if Rey wanted to land in it, she would need to force the shuttle to ground at a far higher speed than its designers had ever intended.

As we approached it became apparent the clearing was not an open grassy field: instead, it was filled with low growth bushes and numerous small trees. We passed over the edge of the canopy that ringed our landing zone and Rey aggressively reduced power. The shuttle settled abruptly; unconsciously I tightened my grip on the handhold by my chair.

Moments before touchdown Rey added power, slowing our descent once more. The vessel began to impact the small trees that were strewn beneath us; what began as an intermittent shudder became a steady vibration as we sunk lower in the brush. The wings contacted the ground with all the violence that would be expected. We were thrown violently forward as the searing sound of tearing metal reverberated throughout the cabin.

The shuttle continued to skid forward, a dull roar filling the flight deck as metal tore through dirt and rock. For several seconds it seemed as if we would reach the far end of the clearing and renter the forest. Then the ship jerk violently to the left and tilt forward. The left wing had caught on an outcropping of rocks that refused to yield.

The resulting motion forced the front of the ship downward, and the flight deck dug into the ground before us. The deck was now at a forty degree angle, and Marxon's limp form slid across the floor to rest against the forward bulkhead. Our view was obscured by plant matter and dirt that coated the windscreen, but it was obvious that the ship had finally come to a stop.

"Help me with him," Leia said to the copilot as she reached under one of the semi-conscious man's arms in an effort to lift him up. The young man did as instructed, and the three of them began moving towards the exit.

"What about him?" Rey asked me, pointing to the crumpled Knight.

I looked at Marxon. He was still, his masked face facing the sky, his robes crumpled around him. "He made his decisions," I said tersely.

"He's wounded and unconscious," Rey protested. "You can't just leave him!"

For a moment I locked eyes with her, processing her compassion. I doubted she would have given me such a reprieve on Starkiller base had it been within her power to assist me. Skywalker's weakness was already tainting her.

In one smooth motion I ripped Marxon's saber from my belt and ignited it. Twisting it towards my former student I jammed the red blade through his chest, easily cutting through the flesh. I stopped as I felt the resistance of the metal floor beneath him and held the blade steady for a moment before deactivating it, leaving a smoking hole bordered by burnt flesh.

Marxon coughed once, and then lay still.

"You… _monster_ ," Rey seethed.

"You were right," I said calmly. "If the Ties failed to neutralize him, he would have remained a threat."

"He was defenseless!"

"This is not the time to discuss my abhorrent lack of morality," I reminded her, an edge of irritation seeping into my voice. "We need to leave. Now."

Rey continued to soak in the sight of Marxon's remains for several second, then stepped towards the door. I followed quickly after her, Marxon's saber still grasped tightly in my hand.

As we passed through compartments we saw the dead troopers. Their masks hid the grotesque expressions of men who had been asphyxiated by the merciless vacuum of space. I could feel a wave of unease coming off Rey.

"We have a problem," Leia said as we approached the shuttle's exit.

"The main door is jammed," the copilot clarified. "It must have been damaged in the landing."

I ignited Marxon's saber once more and began to cut through the thick metal door. The superheated metal slowly gave way to my unyielding blade, but the time loss was substantial. I contemplated giving Rey a saber so she could assist, but there was not room for both of us to work in tandem: the task was mine alone.

The shuttle had built up a wave of soil and uprooted plants as it skidded across the ground. Not only was this wave of debris likely the cause of the door problem, it created an obstacle course around the ship. By the time we cleared it the sound of the Ties' ion engines was audible in the distance.

We were past the tree line by the time the fighters arrived. Unable to see us visually or on sensors they assumed we were still aboard our vessel. The sky erupted in weapons fire, the green laser blasts falling from the sky like a deadly rain. Each beam tore through the atmosphere like lightning, the sheer amount of energy in the air causing the temperature to rise perceptibly. The roar of thunder was constant, human ears were quickly overwhelmed by the intensity so it was felt more than heard.

Behind us the shuttle exploded, and the green haze in the sky was joined by bright yellow flames bursting forth from the dying vessel. Despite our distance from the destruction I could sense the shrapnel moving towards us, thousands of shards of metal and composite cast skyward by the force of the blast. I turned, using the Force to push back against the onslaught of deadly debris.

It was an inexorable tide; I could not stop it all. I inhaled sharply as scorching agony tore through my chest and erupted outward through my body. The intensity was staggering, testing my mental discipline. I resisted the urge to cry out, instead clamping my gloved hands into tight fists as a channeled the pain into my efforts.

Satisfied their objective had been achieved the Fighters arced skyward and the deluge of destruction ceased. I fell to my knees, overwhelmed by exhaustion. Short, uneven breaths were unable to satiate my need for air. A cold, crushing pain radiated through my chest, burning my senses with unrelenting intensity.

I slowly lowered my chin to my chest, finally allowing myself to survey my injury. A twenty centimeter piece of metal had impaled me. It had sliced neatly between the ribs on my right side, tearing through the muscles, ligaments, and organs of my lower chest. My black clothing was wet with spreading blood. I could also feel the warmth of blood pooling around my back, suggesting the shrapnel had lanced completely through my body before becoming lodged in my torso.

It was an exquisite agony. My raspy breathing continued, but the struggle for oxygen was an exercise in futility. Denied the necessities of life, my balance failed and I tumbled backwards. The impacted with the ground forced the metal several centimeters back through my chest, causing another wave of pain to radiate outward. It was another reminder of my frailty; like the moisture welling in my eyes it was proof of my weakness.

Weakness. For all my power, it seemed to define me. I felt a burning sensation within that had nothing to do with my wound. Once more failure wrapped its cruel fingers around my heart, the caustic tendrils of despair far more painful than any injury.

"Ben!" Leia yelled.

I looked back at Leia, the sweat and tears pooling in my eyes making turning her face into an unfocused haze. The face I had taught myself to despise. The face of the woman who had poisoned me with feeble ideology and saddled me with unrelenting indecision. She was responsible for the pain.

I should have hated her. And I hated myself because I did not.

I blinked several times, trying to clear my eyes of the caustic mixture of sweat, tears, and blood so I could study her face. It was the face of a woman who would not yield, whose compassion for me was unwavering. I had caused the destruction of almost everything she loved and then attempted turn her over to the First Order. And still her eyes burned with the same hope and determination they always had.

Memories I had fought to suppress flooded my mind. Memories that had been seared into my conscious but that I wanted so badly to deny. Her eyes cut through me with the same tragic pleading that had defined _his_ final moments. It was an ethereal mix of hope and sadness that was so alien yet so familiar.

Her soft hand touched my cheek, I could not help but marvel at the bitter irony. Now I was the one on the precipice of the abyss. And while my thoughts should have been awash with malice and anger, what I wanted most was for her to understand. For her to comprehend why I had chosen the path I had; how the darkness had given me strength.

My lips parted repeatedly, but I found myself unable to form words amidst my short, strained breaths. As I struggled I could feel an acrid foam forming on my lips as saliva mixed with blood. Leia put a hand on my forehead, encouraging me to lie still. "It's ok," she assured me, "It's all ok."

As her face passed over mine, I could feel the teardrops on my skin. My breathing became shallower and more frequent, and I could feel a familiar coldness spreading through my body. Leia put one hand behind my head and placed her other on my cheek. "Stay with me, Ben."

"I've contacted the _Emancipator_ ," I heard Rey say. "Help is on the way."

I tried to call out for her, but only a few short, quiet gasps managed to escape the invisible hand crushing down on my chest. There was no response, only the sounds of her footsteps as she walked away.

Once more the forbidding reality pierced my soul, its spiteful barbs tearing through me more forcefully than the metal in my chest had. I had lost Rey.

I had not been wrong: she had seen into my thoughts and used her insights to try a pull me away from my purpose. But the effort had been fueled by the false teachings of Skywalker, not some desire to exploit my weaknesses. Her intentions were pure, it was her convictions that were flawed.

My mind had once succumb to the poisonous teachings of the Jedi. Their nefarious beliefs led them to ignore the true potential of the Force. Their fear of the Dark Side allowed chaos to fester throughout the Galaxy.

Her unadulterated resistance and my impending demise had left me no choice. If I could not be by her side to break down the barriers Skywalker had ingrained in her someone else would need to be her teacher. Someone who was not constrained by specious morality and terrified of their own power.

That was what I had thought, that was the self-deception that I had allowed to fester in my own mind. Such lies seemed pointless at the edge of oblivion, and I found myself forced to accept a far simpler truth: I was afraid. Afraid that if she failed to continue my work I would die without purpose. Without meaning.

Another vortex of self-loathing cut through me. I had acted out of desperation. I had acted out of fear. I had given in to the forces I was supposed to be the master of. I had allowed myself to be ruled by emotion, and in doing so had pushed her away.

I had to trust in the Force. It was the arbiter of all truths, and I was merely its servant. If my destiny was to return to the void unfulfilled, so be it. I could only hope that she would find her purpose without me.

I closed my eyes. Hope. That most inconsequential of things. What the weak and pitiful cling to when they lack the power to dictate their own fates.

"Ben," Leia said gently, grasping my left shoulder with her hand. Her touch radiated with feeling, injecting a sense of warmth into my gradually cooling body. "Open your eyes. Just a bit longer now."

I reluctantly complied, looking upwards with a vacant stare. Leia was struggling to maintain a smile on trembling lips, her thoughts washing over me. Her compassion. Her reassurance. And for the briefest of moments the decades of misery fell away. All the wrong she had done seemed so distant. I was simply an injured soul seeking the comfort of his mother.

My thoughts were interrupted by a spasm of painful coughing. I could feel the warm blood coating my throat and spreading across my lips as I coughed. Leia pulled her hand away from my face; it was stained by a menacing web of dark red. Tearing a piece of cloth from her shirt she gently wiped the dark-tainted sputum away from my mouth, ignoring my increasingly violent shivering.

The pain began to fade to numbness. Leia gently wrapped her arms around me, careful not to dislodge the shrapnel within me. "I won't let go of you again," she said through erratic sobs. "I love you."

I swallowed in an attempt to keep down the frothy blood within my chest. The coldness was overwhelming now. "I…" My voice trailed off, my waning breath no longer sufficient to speak.

I closed my eyes, hoping that perhaps this time the pain would end.

A/N: Longer chapter this time! And a quite bit darker. I try to touch on a lot of aspects of Star Wars, but I think the core of this story is Kylo's internal struggle and the relationship between it and those around him. But you need a few spaceships blowing up to round things out!

I hope you all enjoyed, and thanks you again for the support. It is always great to hear from you!


	46. Chapter 45

The steady footsteps on the dirt path caught her attention. "Ben! You're back," she said excitedly, placing her data pad on the stone bench next to her.

"Yeah," the tall young man said sheepishly. "Thankfully."

"Didn't you have fun?" she pressed.

"I don't think anyone has fun on Hosnian Prime anymore," he replied with a half-smile. "The entire planet is one big argument."

She raised her eyebrows. "Politics?"

The boy snorted. "Yeah… trade this time." He lowered his tall, slender form onto the bench next to her. "Apparently tariffs on shipments the Kurana and Obess systems are too high… or too low… depends who you ask."

"And that takes the Senate to resolve?"

"The Centrists want more control over inter-system commerce. They'll grab onto any issue that will tighten their grip." He lowered his head slightly. "You know how they are."

"Careful," the woman offered with teasing tone, "My Father is a Centrist."

"Don't put him in a room with my mother then," he replied. "Of course, I can't even get in a room with her these days."

The young woman's humor faded. "I guess you didn't get much time with her."

"I was there eleven days. Eleven. I think we spent about six hours together, if that." He looked at the ground. "I think she feels like the Galaxy will fall apart if she takes a day off."

"Maybe it will," the young woman said only half-jokingly. "If things really are that bad, people need someone they can trust up front. There aren't a lot of politicians everyone respects."

"I don't think her respect goes quite as far as it used to," he said sourly. "After the war people respected her ideology, her principles. She was a hero, and they would listen to her."

"She's still a hero," the young woman insisted, "Without her there would be no Republic, no Jedi, no freedom."

"People don't think like that," he responded. "When I was little, they would do what she said because it was coming from her. But now, that stuff that inspired the Rebellion… it doesn't really help people in there day to day, you know? Where does hope and integrity fit in with tax policy?"

"They still trust her judgement."

"Maybe" He shrugged. "That doesn't mean she needs to have her fingerprints on everything," the young man grow, running a hand through ebony hair. "Not everything is a crisis."

"Everything is a crisis to someone," she said. "Some of the younglings think it's a crisis when the cafeteria runs out of Blue Milk."

"That _is_ a crisis," the man insisted, a smile forming on his lips. But it was transitory. "At least she has an excuse."

The woman's face hardened. "He didn't show again?"

"I've seen the man once in the last two years. He says he's busy on the racing circuit."

"But you think there is more to it than that," she said, reaching out to hold his hand in hers. "I learned a long time ago: you can't read more into what people do than what is there. Even if you're a Jedi."

"What do you mean?" the man asked.

She shrugged. "He's not there. Maybe that makes him a nerf herder, but it doesn't mean anything about _you_."

He shook his head again. "You don't know him like I do. Nothing bothers him. Nothing phases him. The guy isn't afraid of anything. Except me."

"That isn't true," she said, but the protestation was halfhearted at best. "He loves you."

"You can be feared and loved at the same time." He let out a chuckle. "Seems like that was a pretty common thing for the Jedi in some places."

"People are uncomfortable around what they don't understand. Sometimes they—"

"Then why isn't he like that with Mom or Luke," the man demanded, a flash of frustration evident on his features.

"Maybe you should ask them," she suggested, taking his irritation in stride.

"It wouldn't help. Luke can't even explain that damn dream I keep having."

"The dream," she said. "The one with the creature?"

The young man nodded. "Some kind of disfigured man, really."

"And Master Skywalker doesn't know what it is?"

"He says he doesn't sense anything—that sometimes a dream is just a dream."

"He might be right," she observed.

"No," he said, biting down gently on his lip. "I can feel it. It isn't just something I see. I can feel it. How it looks inside my thoughts."

"Dreams come in many forms," she said.

He couldn't hide the sadness in his eyes he returned her gaze. "Dreams don't hurt. Not like this."

"He is the Master. Maybe you just need to accept what he says."

"Not when he won't do what I ask him!" the man rasped more harshly than he had intended.

Her gaze broke away from his, uncomfortable with the hostility building in his eyes and unsettled by the fear within him. "What did you want him to do?" she asked tepidly.

"Whatever it takes," he said, his voice suddenly quiet an unemotional. She shuddered slightly at the abrupt change. "He has the power to go deeper into my thoughts, to explore my mind. But he claims such invasive techniques are too close to the Dark Side." The impassive veil lifted, replaced by a look of obvious irritation. "How can probing my mind, to help me and with my consent, be wrong?"

"You know that's not how it works," she said sharply.

His cold, dark eyes bored into her. "Maybe its how it should be," he said softly.

She reached out and squeezed his hand with her slender, delicate fingers. "If you were anyone else…"

He pulled away. "Yes, I know. You'd need to tell Luke." He inhaled sharply. "I don't need to be watched over constantly by a babysitter. Jedi Master or not."

"We are all here for his guidance," the woman stated diplomatically.

"Or because our parents thought we needed his guidance." He sighed. "If he were as powerful as he claims he'd be able to tell me why I'm seeing these things. Feeling these things."

"Even the greatest Jedi have their limits."

He arched a raven eyebrow. "Do they? Or are they just afraid to push the boundary?"

The woman stiffened noticeably. "The boundaries are there for a reason."

"What reason is that?" he asked.

"You're obviously upset about your trip. Maybe some meditation will help you see things more clearly," she suggested.

"You mean help me see things _his_ way," the young man scoffed.

"You're starting to scare me Ben. I really think—"

"He is lying to me," the man interrupted.

The young woman frowned in confusion. "He wouldn't lie to you. Not intentionally."

" _How would you know?"_ he bit out. "There is something he isn't telling me," he continued more calmly. Something significant."

"If he is withholding something, I'm sure he has his reasons."

"Just like he has his reasons to let me live with this torment. This thing plying my mind! And his reasons to limit _my power_ … I'm tired of reasons." The man spat the last sentence almost petulantly, causing his companion to pull away and come to her feet.

"I think it is time for me to go."

"No!" he snarled, grabbing her arm, then letting go just as quickly. The intensity in his eyes faded to concern and then sadness as he realized how she had perceived his outburst. "I mean… please stay. I'm sorry. It's just… I think you're right. The trip must have taken more out of me than I thought. But I don't want to be alone." He could feel the darkness approaching, and without the light of another to keep it at bay he feared what was ahead.

"I'm sorry Ben," she said, her voice quivering as she sensed the carefully controlled darkness swirling around him, slowly eroding the beacon of light that had once defined her friend. "I think it is time for me to go."

He reached out once more but resisted the urge to restrain her, instead solemnly lowering his eyes to the ground. He stood slowly, walking several steps into the soft grass before laying down. This was how it always ended. Whether by his own actions or by their fear, he drove them all always. His friends, his fellow students… Even his parents.

He rolled over, letting his eyes focus on the soft hues of the evening sky. The sound of running water and younglings playing in the distance combined with the music of the universe as he closed his eyes, reaching out to the Force in an effort to find calm.

"I see you have returned, Master Solo," an old man said from a nearby path.

The younger man's eyes snapped open and he struggled to his feet. "Master San Tekka. I did not sense your approach."

"Perhaps the same confliction that clouds your conscious thoughts clouds your senses," San Tekka replied. His aging lips curled upward as he motioned for the younger man to relax. "Please, no formalities, I'm merely here because I saw a friend in trouble."

The young man resisted the urge to frown. San Tekka knew nothing of his trouble. The doddering old man was a religious zealot, not a practitioner of the Force. He understood the history of the Jedi, but lacked the experience to comprehend the trials they faced. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm OK."

"It does not take a Jedi to know when someone is unsettled," the white haired man said as if reading the younger man's thoughts. "Do not dismiss council just because it comes from someone with a different viewpoint," he continued, demonstrating yet again while he lacked the skills of a Jedi he possessed impressive skills of observation and uncanny perception.

Or had he seen Aleesa storming away and come to the most logical conclusion.

"I've already spoken to Master Skywalker," the Padawan said.

The old man raised his white eyebrows slightly. "And what did he say?"

The slender young man ran a hand through his dark hair, unsure if he should confide in the old man. "He was unwilling to help."

"That hardly sounds like Master Skywalker," San Tekka replied.

"He claimed to do what I asked would take him too close to the Dark Side."

"Ahh," the old man said in understanding.

"But if there is a good reason… if it's too eliminate pain and suffering, to help others, how can it be wrong?"

"A Padawan should know the answer," he replied, gently scolding the younger man. "The Darkness is invasive. Many Jedi have fallen in an attempt to help others."

"Only because they lack the self-control to stop," the young man argued.

"It is not a matter of conscious control," the old man chided. "The only way to resist the Dark Side is to oppose it, even when it seems to offer hope. Hope derived from darkness is a lie."

"I will not be fooled so easily," the Padawan replied bitterly.

"I hope not," San Tekka said solemnly. "There is no worse fate for a Jedi than to become a servant of the Darkness."

"Maybe," he conceded to the old man, drawing a scolding glance from San Tekka. The younger man's eyes glowed, but he contained his anger. "I understand," he said without conviction, "Luke must maintain the line between Light and Dark within him. No exceptions."

"So it is for all Jedi," San Tekka affirmed. "Never underestimate the allure of the Dark Side." The old man offered a grandfatherly smile. "Have a good evening, Ben. Do not hesitate to call on me if I can be of assistance."

Ben Solo's lips twitched as he fought the urge to tell the old man exactly how much he valued his assistance. "Good evening, Lor," he said quietly, unable to completely hide the irritation in his voice.

As he watched San Tekka walk away, he could feel resentment boiling within him. It was the same feeble argument. The Jedi claimed fear was the path to the Dark Side, yet they feared the Darkness itself. Pain and suffering pervaded the Galaxy because those with the power to stop it were terrorized of their own potential.

The arrogant old man thought he could understand the Force through history. But the past failings of others were not omens of the future.

One day, Lor San Tekka would see his power.

So anytime Kylo sleeps, gets knocked unconscious, etc, I need to take the chance to explore what Ben Solo was and how Kylo Ren came to be! Hopefully it made for an interesting change of pace, and I do intend for it to be relevant in later chapters!

As always, thank you for the faves, follows, views, and especially reviews!


	47. Chapter 46

I could test the bacta in my mouth, the unpleasantly sweet residue letting me know I was in a medical facility even before my eyes opened to see the sterile white ceiling. My senses were weak, but I knew I was not alone. I could feel their presence, and I could hear them conversing in hushed tones several meters away.

My skin was still cool and moist, my breathing shallow but regular. The sense of fatigue was overwhelming. I ignored the protests of my aching muscles and attempted to sit up, only to find my arms held firmly in place. I grunted in exertion and anger, unable to overcome the metal restraints in my weakened state.

I began to reach out with the Force, in hopes that it could do what my body could not. I paused as I felt a hand on my shoulder. "You're awake." It took a moment for me to recognize the observation as coming from Dameron. I heard a commlink click from his general direction, followed by several mumbled words.

"Why am I restrained?" I asked quietly, finding the very act of speaking taxing.

"Do you really need to ask?" Dameron replied cynically. The pilot's face finally came into view, lacking any of its usual joviality. It was the face of a man who felt betrayed. "Actually, the Doctor was concerned unnecessary movement would be dangerous." A cynical smile formed on his lips. "Who was I to argue?"

"The others?"

The smile vanished. "Suddenly you care about them?" Dameron scoffed. "You were willing to turn Rey over to the First Order!" He shook his head. "You betrayed your friends, the people that cared about you. I don't know what you did that convinced Rey there was some good, redeemable part of you… but you made her believe in you." He walked several steps away. "You enjoy that though, don't you? Seeing people suffer. Manipulating them so that you can hurt them."

I found myself wincing unconsciously as his words cut through me. I had never intended to hurt Rey, merely to force her to accept the truth. To see a potential her so-called friends would deny her. But in my fear I had destroyed the bond we had forged and erased any chance of her cooperation.

More than failure, regret is an admission of wrongdoing, and acknowledgment that one chose the wrong path. I rarely felt regret. I certainly would not admit to it. But it burned in me in a way I had felt only once before.

The door to the room opened, and I craned my neck in the direction of the sound. Leia entered, followed by the doctor that had treated Ankira days before.

"Ben," Leia breathed, closing the distance between the door and my bed in three steps. "How are you?"

"Captive," I said bluntly, nodding towards the restraints.

"I'm sorry, but that was at my insistence," the doctor said. Her voice was professional, but her resentment at being forced to treat me was obvious. "We pulled six metal fragments out of you. Most were small, but one was more than forty centimeters in length. It went through your thoracic diaphragm, lacerating both your right lung and liver."

"You were in surgery for four hours," Leia said, "And in a bacta tank for ten hours after that. But now, you are going to be fine."

"If you stay still," the Doctor noted. "You have three subcutaneous bacta packs in your chest. They need at least six more hours to do their jobs."

Leia pulled a chair alongside my bed and took a seat, grabbing my hand. "I'm sorry I wasn't hear when you woke up," she said gently.

"You absence is never surprising," I replied instinctively, quietly wondering if I truly wanted to be so antagonistic.

Leia ignored the comment. "I stayed with you as much as I could, but Admiral Halzet insisted I meet with him."

I was silent for a moment, my tired mind taking longer to process the information than usual. Vice Admiral Fremin Halzet was a well-known New Republic officer and one of the senior leaders to escape the destruction of the Honsnian system.

His career was distinguished, holding several notable commands before his promotion to Vice Admiral. The man was a practiced manipulator, noted for the amount of time he spent lobbying the Senate on behalf of the military. Despite this, his passionate argument that powerful military remained critical to the New Republic's stability fell on deaf ears, much as Leia's own efforts had.

Halzet and Leia seemed destined to be political allies, but he was known for another controversial opinion that put him at odds with Leia. The Admiral felt that restoring the Jedi Order was far too risky.

"Halzet," I said, my voice slightly above a whisper. The pain had abated somewhat, but the pressure on my chest remained. Breathing was strangely… unfulfilling. I looked at Leia, sensing she was holding something back. "You can tell me what is going on, or I can take what-" My warning was cut off by a fit of coughing.

Leia hesitated a moment. "I wanted you to regain some strength before…" She sighed. "Halzet is under orders to conduct take you into New Republic custody and conduct a preliminary tribunal."

Leia's eyes widened slightly as my lips curled into a smug grin. The fair and impartial New Republic had truly outdone itself. They had managed to appoint a judge that was predisposed against any Force user, let alone a master of the Dark Side. I could not help but be amused by it.

"This is serious, Ben," Leia admonished gently. "He's agreed to wait forty eight hours for you to recover enough for a transfer… and then he wants you on the _Vision_."

"Where he can summarily declare me guilty," I mused.

"Not really something new for the First Order, is it?" Dameron said sardonically.

"I will not allow the transfer unless I am confident of a fair trial."

"There is a battlecruiser eight times our size ready to lock us in a tractor beam at a moment's notice," Dameron reminded her. His voice an edge of frustration to it. "And even if we could get by it, what would happen to our relationship with the New Republic?"

"I will not condemn him to death," Leia said quietly. "We all make mistakes."

Dameron's nostrils flared. "Yes," he said firmly, "we do."

"If you have something to say, Commander," Leia coaxed.

"I've tried to…" He trailed off. "When he was just the evil man in a mask, I could understand that. But now, I don't know what he is. And that is far more frightening."

"He needs more time," Leia insisted. "The Dark Side-"

"Is a threat to us all," Dameron cut her off. "I don't know if you can get your son back or not, but you can't sacrifice others to do it." Poe's anger slowly drained from his face, replaced with a veil of sadness. "On the bridge yesterday," he continued slowly, "you said 'Our work is more important than any one of us.'" He took several steps away from my bed, and I was unable to turn my head far enough to keep him in view. "We have given everything and then some," Dameron stated. "We can't risk who we are and one we have accomplished for any one person. No matter how much you love him."

The doors opened and Dameron's footsteps faded into the distance.

"I should be on my way as well," the Doctor said uncomfortably. She looked at the computer screen attached to my bed. "Vitals are weak but steady, which is to be expected. You were in Stage Four Hypovolemic Shock when you arrived," she explained. "Our blood stock is fairly limited so we were forced to use a synthetic plasma; it is less effective than a normal transfusion. But other than some fatigue over the next few days, the only lasting damage should be minor scaring."

"Thank you, Kathine," Leia said smoothly, "For everything."

"I took an oath, General," the Doctor reminded her gently. "I don't get to pick my patients." She took several steps towards the door. "Please keep in mind he needs to rest."

"Of course," Leia answered. The door closed, and we were alone again.

"I thought I was going to lose you again," she said slowly.

I raised my head to lock eyes with her, trying in vain to vanquish any hint of emotion. "You cannot loose what you never had," I said softly.

"You can say what you will, but you cannot deny the truth." Her hand grasped mine and squeezed gently. "You remember," she insisted, "I know you do."

I pressed my lips together. I was not the person she wanted to speak with. I was more than he had ever been. Yet I was condemned to share his memories.

His pain was still with me. Her very presence drew it to the forefront of my conscious, vicious reminders of a past the conflicted with my future. No matter what I did I could not push his thoughts aside. In a way she was right: Ben Solo did exist, but not as person. What he had once been was a cancer within me, a malady so terrible that it risked destroying me if I could not force it into remission.

"I remember the loneliness," I said dispassionately, "The suffering. The lack of purpose." I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, struggling to force air into my weak lungs.

A crestfallen expression settled across Leia's face. "I never understood how much pain you were in."

"Because you were never there," I snapped, wincing slightly as a sharp pain ran through my chest. "You pawned me off to Skywalker, someone who did not understand… _refused_ to understand what I am."

"Luke never meant to hurt you—"

"He couldn't if he tried," I growled, ignoring the strain my tone put on my chest. "In a way, his arrogance allowed me to see my path."

Leia pursed her lips slightly as she tried to hold back tears. "This is not what he wanted for you. None of us did."

I titled my head as much as my weakened muscles and the restraints allowed. "That was not a decision for you to make."

Two updates in a week! Wow. Hopefully you all enjoy!

As always, thank you for the views, faves, and follows. And a very special thank you to everyone who takes the time to review or PM!


	48. Chapter 47

Leia sat still and emotionless, a shower of thoughts racing through her mind. "You're right," she admitted in a hushed tone. "Neither your father, nor your uncle, nor I… none of us had the right to tell you who to be. But we had the obligation to give you guidance, to help you determine what you wanted."

"You desired to forge a child in the image you saw," I said sourly. "To create what you wanted. The golden child. Son of war heroes, following in the footsteps of his Uncle."

Leia swallowed and glanced at the floor. "The expectations… the pressures. It must have been overwhelming, and undeserved." She inhaled deeply. "I knew it would be difficult. Raising a child in a spotlight they didn't ask for."

"It must have been so difficult for you," I said dryly.

"We encumbered you with a tremendous burden," Leia continued, ignoring my sarcasm. "I didn't know what to do. Nothing prepares you to be a parent. It is a new frontier, a galaxy of feelings you don't know how to understand. Everything about you is now defined by the well-being of someone else."

"Everything about you was defined by someone else," I said sharply, "But never your son."

"That isn't true," Leia protested, her voice unsteady as she struggled to contain a deep sorrow boiling in her chest. "I failed. I won't- I _can't_ deny that. But not because I didn't care. Never because I didn't love you.

"Absence and inattention are strange ways of showing concern," I countered. My voice was strained, and the words failed to convey the scorn I had intended. Despite the fire burning inside, the hatred coursing through my veins, I could feel the pull of the light. It was an infernal and unwavering desire to accept her words, and it weakened me far more than my physical injuries.

I returned her gaze, feeling a sensation I rarely acknowledged: vulnerability. For all my efforts to banish my emotions they stubbornly continued to fester, and I was unsure if my convictions would continue to hold them at bay.

"Ben Solo was born into a life he could not escape," I said, careful to conceal any hint of my thoughts. Hiding my feelings from her had become exhausting, but I could not allow her to see virulent unrest within. "Thus, he ceased to be."

"I see Ben Solo every time I look into your eyes," she replied resolutely. "You've worn the mask of Kylo Ren so long, you forget who you truly are."

"The fire that burns within is no mask," I assured her, "And the flames long ago engulfed your son."

For a moment she was silent and contemplative. "No," she said definitively. "When you speak of the past, you aren't talking about someone else's memories. They are moments that define you and invoke emotion. I can't see past the wall you have built around your mind, but I can sense the turmoil. And when you talk about the past…"

"Your desire to see what you want renders you delusional," I said.

"There is no darkness black enough to hide the truth."

"What do you know of the Dark Side?" I demanded, my chest sore from the exertion. "You cannot understand what I am because you do not allow yourself to see all aspects of the Force."

"I know I was supposed to protect you from it," she said.

"Protect me from what? My own power? What I could achieve? From my _destiny_?" I coughed several times, pain lacerating through me with every contraction of my chest.

"The Dark Side is pain. Cruelty. Things a mother never wants her child to experience."

"Pain, anger, fear—it is merely the price of being alive," I explained patiently. "We can either embrace it, or ignore it, but we cannot change it."

"It is a part of life," Leia admitted, "But we cannot allow ourselves to be defined by pain. The Dark embraces fear, the Light towers above it." She squeezed my shoulder gently. "It tore me apart to send you away, but I thought Luke could help you understand that. I wanted you to be safe, and I worried if you stayed with me… if you developed an understanding of the Force without the proper guidance…"

"If I discovered the truth of my heritage, the greatness of my Grandfather," I said sharply. "If I discovered my true potential before I had been properly _indoctrinated._ "

Leia's face contorted in thought. "I can't defend all my actions. I can't say every decision was correct. But I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to mislead you, or force you to be something. I just wanted you to know what you should, to see your choices with clarity."

"Sometimes there is only one path."

Leia exhaled slowly. "Is that what you believe, or what you have convinced yourself is true? There is always a choice."

I felt my lip twitch as my thoughts burned with uncertainty. Snoke had claimed Ben Solo was gone forever. The blade that slain Han Solo was supposed to have killed two men and irrevocably set my destiny. But I had disavowed the Supreme Leader, and though untrained Leia herself was attuned to the Force. Despite the absurdity of her claims, I could not dismiss her insights out of hand. Yet if she was right…

But how could she be? She did not understand. She shielded herself from the truth because it was too painful for her to comprehend.

I turned as my head as much as the restraints allowed. It was yet another reminder of my frailty. "Release me. I will not have this discussion as your prisoner."

"You are not a prisoner," Leia assured me. "They are for your protection."

"You are willing to deny my freedom for my own protection?" I asked.

Leia paused a moment, sensing a change in my thoughts. "If you tear open your wound-"

"I could suffer," I interrupted. "I could die." I looked briefly away from her, then met her gaze once again. " _That,"_ I added quietly, _"is the price of freedom_."

I inhaled as deeply as I could, my lungs fighting the restriction of tender muscles and tendons as the struggled to get enough oxygen. "You profess to love freedom, to support choice. Yet you see it is not always practical. Sometimes one must make a judgement for another."

Leia was insightful enough to see where I was leading her now. "There is a galaxy of difference between a medical precaution and controlling another's life."

"But both are a matter of the greater good. Freedom allows the strong the prey on the weak. Without order, the Galaxy functions at the whims of those who claw their way to the top. Monarchies, corporations, political machines."

"All of those existed under the Empire," Leia reminded me.

"He did not have time," I said. "Skywalker killed him before he could complete his work."

"Luke saved your grandfather."

"Skywalker's actions prevented Darth Vader from bringing order to the Galaxy. It left a task to be completed, one Skywalker refuses to accept. Thus the responsibility falls to me."

A cold chill settled across Leia, and her eyes widened slightly as she began to see what she had refused to acknowledge. "Whatever the reasons… The persecution and slaughter of the innocent can never be justified."

"The how matters little," I replied. "The Force does not concern itself with effort, only results." I pressed my lips together briefly. "Do, or do not."

Her eyes bored into me with an intensity borne from decades of war. "And the Dark Side concerns itself only with _power_."

I raised an eyebrow. "Do you truly believe that power alone could be so seductive?" I asked. "A great Jedi is not so easily swayed. Anakin Skywalker did not turn away from the Jedi Order because the allure of power called to him; he saw the greatness that could be achieved and had the courage to pursue it."

"I will concede it is unlikely he fell to the Dark Side entirely against his will. But that does not mean he truly understood the ramifications of his choice."

"By harnessing the power of the Dark Side he realized he could restore order, that he could forge the Galaxy in the image he envisioned."

"If he believed that, he was misled. Palpatine was a master of deception." She paused for a moment, drawing closer to me. "The power of the Dark Side cannot be harnessed," Leia warned. "Darkness only serves itself."

I gritted my teeth. "Just because most do not have the strength does not mean something is impossible!"

"Do you have the strength?" Leia demanded. "Has every life you have taken been for the purpose you cling to? Has everything Snoke has manipulated you into doing been a step towards the destiny you see?"

"Snoke gave me more than you ever did," I answered sharply, a fresh wave of anger searing through me. My hands curled into fists. My mind surged outward, and moments later I was able to rip the restraints away from my wrists.

I yanked my head clear of the cradle that was supporting it and slowly sat up. I was unable to keep from flinching slightly as agony tore through me like an electrical discharge. The wound in my chest burned like an open flame, and I let the pain fire flow through my mind as a calming influence. Damaged ligaments and muscles strained to support my weight, and I leaned forward so I could use my arms for additional support and stability. My mind was fortified by my pain, allow me to keep my breathing slow and controlled despite a craving for oxygen.

"The Darkness just gave me my freedom," I said slowly.

"You know what it will take to get your freedom," Leia replied gently yet with a hint of steel in her tone. "And when you are ready to pursue it, I will be there for you."

A/N: As always, thank you so much for the views, faves, follows, and especially feedback! Getting your reviews is a high point of my week!

Thank you!


	49. Chapter 48

Leia had departed abruptly, insisting that I needed rest and promising to ensure any disruptions were minimized. Though her concern was genuine, she was motivated as much by her own need for a respite as mine. Our discussion had proven emotionally exhausting to her.

The next several hours were uneventful. A medical technician would check on my condition at regular intervals, but I was left otherwise undisturbed. This gave me time to meditate, grasping the pain radiating through my body and using it to reinforce my will and center my mind. Leia's thoughts had been invasive, tearing through barriers I had spent years perfecting. The delicate façade of calm and certainty I struggled to project had been in danger of falling.

The weakness of the light burned away inside me, struggling to eradicate my strength and resolve. I had denied it a quick victory, but I also found myself unable to defeat it.

Of course, it was possible my mistake was simply attempting to extinguish the light. Perhaps the light was not merely a path to self-imposed ignorance, but a power in and of itself. A tool that could be manipulated to serve my purpose. I could exploit them both in opposition and concordance, applying whatever means allowed me to achieve my objective. I could harness the fury of the Force—All of the Force—to remake the Galaxy. To create the greatness that was my destiny, to achieve what my grandfather had envisioned.

But would the light bend to my will? Would accepting it overpower what I had become? If I was defined by darkness, could I truly allow the light to flow through me without eradicating what I am? Would I be finding a new source of strength, or embracing an adversary that was incompatible with me?

Would I be able to embrace light while retaining my grip on all that I was, or would the carnage within become untenable?

I sensed Leia approach long before she opened the door. I sat up and turned to face the door before she entered. She entered flanked by two officers: Seastriker, to her right, and a young Lieutenant to her left.

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently.

I regarded her for a moment, meeting her concerned stare with a cold and emotionless gaze. It was a question I could not answer. After hours of meditation I had found calm, but what I sought most still eluded me. Perhaps it always would.

"My wounds are healing," I said, choosing not to convey anything beyond my physical condition.

A tight smile formed briefly on Leia's lips. "Good," she said, wisely deciding not to pursue the topic further. "You know Commander Seastriker. And this is Lieutenant Jost Kryek." She paused for a moment, waiting for me to acknowledge the newly introduced officer. When I did not, she continued. "As you know, Admiral Halzet intends to hold a hearing where the New Republic can be formally charged for war crimes. I've chosen Joph and Jost as your legal team, both to establish pre-conditions to any transfer and to represent you at the hearing."

I regarded the two officers without comment. A slight grimace crept across my lips. Seastriker was a fighter pilot, not a lawyer. Kryek wore the pin of a Judge Advocate officer, suggesting he had received formal legal training. At most in his late twenties, I wondered how much opportunity the man had had to apply is knowledge in an actual court.

"We have limited legal personnel in the Resistance," Leia continued, trying to explain the choice. "Sometimes officers are forced to perform duties beyond the scope of their normal assignment. Commander Seastriker has served as counselor on many occasions, and even as an arbitrator when the situation demanded. His work has been exemplary." She paused and pressed her lips together. "Because he has limited formal training, a New Republic court will not recognize him as a lead counselor." She looked at Kryek. "Lieutenant Kryek is a graduate of the Yardiss Academy on Coruscant, and as such is a recognized counselor."

"I realize I would not normally be the first choice for such a… significant proceeding," Kryek said, nervousness obvious in his voice despite his best efforts to bury it. "I graduated third in my class from Yardiss, and practiced on Coruscant for two years prior to joining the Resistance."

"Your credentials are irrelevant," I said, my voice quiet but harsh. "There will be a trial, a conviction, and an execution. The actions of my attorney will not change the outcome."

"There is no guarantee of a conviction," Leia continued. "Snoke clouded your mind with evil deceptions. I can help them see that."

"Following orders has never been an acceptable defense when one has committed atrocities of such a magnitude," I reminded her.

"Snoke's manipulation is not simply orders."

"I doubt they will appreciate the distinction," I said dryly.

"During the Rebellion, several senior Imperial officials defected and were given leniency in return for information about the enemy," Kryek pointed out. "A few even became senior leaders."

"None of whom stood accused of genocide," I countered, tilting my head slightly. "Had Tarkin or Thrawn attempted to defect, I doubt the response would have been so… warm."

"You have information they can use," Leia said. I found the forced optimism in her voice distasteful.

"Defeating the First Order is more important than revenge against any single person," Seastriker said. "I've lost many friends in this war, but I would accept seeing the people that killed them go free if it meant the end of Snoke's tyranny."

I considered his point for a moment. I doubted, however, others would be able to overcome their desire to see me punished. Revenge is a visceral craving, born of hate and anger and infused with a twisted sense of righteousness and obligation. Those who seek it do so because of a bond to the fallen, not a vision of the future.

I was not merely a senior leader of the First Order: I was a symbol of what they hated. I was responsible for the countless deaths, but the nature of the blood on my hands mattered less than what I represented: the cruel, compassionless methods of the First Order.

Methods I was not yet ready to divest. Snoke was not worthy of my loyalty; there was no longer a way to achieve my objectives in concert with his. But assisting them in the fight against the First Order would mean dismantling the tool I needed to achieve my destiny. Only the might of the Order could bring stability to the Galaxy and unite it under the leadership of one with the wisdom and power needed to rule effectively.

"I doubt that the Republic will share your pragmatism," I told Seastriker.

"You're an intelligence asset to them," Seastriker pressed. "They want to know what is in your head. And I'm pretty sure they aren't going to break you with conventional interrogation."

I smiled tightly. The Commander was correct about that; restricted by their petty notions of morality there was no action they could take that would force me to divulge information unwillingly. It was strangely ironic: they would end my life for no purpose but revenge, yet so long as I had breath they refused to inflict injury upon me. Such an aversion to torture—true, unrestricted, torture—was yet another example of how they lacked the strength to bring the order that the Galaxy craved.

It was true I knew the tactics employed by the First Order. I knew its senior leaders, their areas of responsibility, and the strategies they favored. The mighty military machine the First Order had created was formidable, but not invincible. I knew of weaknesses that could be exploited.

But the destruction of the First Order would mean a return to disarray. A perfect democracy could hardly be entrusted with a task as important as bringing order to the Galaxy, and the New Republic was anything but perfect. Allowing the weak, feckless leadership of a corrupt and failed government to gain control was unacceptable; to assist them in doing so was unthinkable.

But, perhaps, there was an alternative. Something that would suit all of our objectives while leaving the strength of the First Order largely unchallenged. I pushed myself off of the bed, letting my weight rest on my feet for the first time since my injury. I tried to draw myself to my full height, but the tension of wounded tendons in my abdomen kept me hunched over slightly. "I may be able to provide them with something of considerable value."

Seastriker's eyes widened slightly. "What were you thinking?"

I hesitated for a moment, aware that my facial muscles were ticking slightly as I pushed the last vestiges of Snoke's influence from my mind. "The location of the Supreme Leader."

"You know where Snoke is," Leia said in a soft, gruff tone that hinted both excitement and skepticism.

I pressed my lips together for a moment. "Perhaps. He contacted me while I was aboard the shuttle. There was no delay in the transmission, suggesting he is close enough to Ultan that a relay station was not required."

"And I'm willing to bet there aren't that many places he frequents," Seastriker said.

I nodded, almost imperceptibly. "I only know of only one facility in this region intended for his use." Snoke could, of course, command any First Order vessel or base, but only a select few were equipped especially for his use.

Kryek scratched his clean-shaven chin thoughtfully. "That's quite a supposition. He could have been on a ship passing through the region. Maybe he has a base you don't know of."

"And even if you're right," Seastriker said, "how long will he stay put?"

"At best this information has a limited period of usefulness," Kryek agreed.

"It is a far better lead than we have ever gotten," Leia said. "Where is this facility?"

I looked at the floor. "It seems unwise to divulge the most important leverage I have until I get certain assurances from the New Republic."

Leia frowned, but Kryek spoke first. "Time is of the essence. Every second increases the chances Snoke will move on."

I paused for a moment before responding. "I suggest you convey that urgency to the Admiral."

A/N: So Kylo finally admits that the light may not be the worst thing there is, but of course he isn't really sure. And regardless, completing Vader's work is what really matters. Leia may be opening his mind a bit, but he's pretty stubborn when it comes to that. To be fair, people don't change overnight.

As always a sincere thanks to for all the views, faves, and especially reviews. Special thanks to Fern Haddock, Khalthar, Jkleeberger22, PrincessStarberry, Dirtkid123, MarieBloom14, Earial13, and KiereSolo. Thank you so much for your kind words and feedback, it means the world!


	50. Chapter 49

"Trust is not something that there is much of in the Galaxy these days," the hologram said pointedly, "And you are asking me to trust the word of an enemy."

"He no longer serves our enemy," Leia answered, struggling to retain a semblance of politeness amid her frustration. The Admiral had not been very receptive to Leia's demand that the death penalty be eliminated as a possible punishment for my crimes. Despite her arguments on both moral and practical grounds, Halzet was unmoved.

"He once served the New Republic," Halzet said. Even on the quarter scale hologram it was easy to see his face tensing. "I am not convinced he posses _any_ loyalties."

"And if he is telling the truth?" Leia pressed. "If he knows where Snoke is, are you willing to simply let that knowledge go to waste because of your personal vendetta?"

"Seeking justice for _billions_ is hardly a personal vendetta," Halzet snapped.

"Vice Admiral," Kryek said, "Less than third of the New Republic's systems still employ capital punishment. The majority of your own people do not believe the death penalty is necessary for justice." His nervousness addressing the Admiral was carefully hidden, but I could still feel it. The young man was unaccustomed to the stress he was facing.

"Subordinate governments do not prosecute war criminals." Leia flinched slightly at the term 'subordinate government'. She had always recognized the importance of a central government, but felt it should serve the needs of individual systems, not rule over them. She viewed too much central authority as a path to a renewed dictatorship.

Kryek had anticipated the objection. "There have been sixteen cases of genocide prosecuted at the system level since the fall of the Empire," the young man said. "Four resulted in acquittal, twelve in imprisonment, and only two in execution. There is precedent that-"

"There is no precedent for what happened to the Hosnian System!" Halzet roared. Kryek rocked backward slightly at the intensity of the outburst. "No being has ever drawn so much blood from a single atrocity," the Admiral continued. "I will not pretend to draw parallels."

Kryek was shaken, but not yet ready to back down. "We all agree that the defendant did not order Starkiller Base to fire." The lieutenant swallowed noticeably and shifted his weight. "And with all due respect, sir, we do not make law for each new situation. We apply what we have as best we can."

The hologram returned his gaze for a moment. "And, as of now, the Death Penalty is law."

Kryek began to protest again, but Leia raised her hand. "That does not change our position. The Resistance does not recognize capital punishment and will not extradite a prisoner if they are threatened with it."

"General Organa," Halzet said, "My orders are to apprehend Kylo Ren, conduct a hearing, and bring him to my superiors where he can face whatever punishment they deem fit." He paused for emphasis. "I intend to carry out my orders."

"Is that a threat?" Leia asked, her voice cold.

The Admiral looked back at her with a stern expression for several seconds. "I don't want it to be," Halzet replied, a hint of sadness now in his voice. "But if you attempt to leave orbit before this situation is resolved, I will be forced to use tractor beams to hold you in place."

Leia's nostrils flared. "The Resistance would consider that an overtly hostile act."

"Please do not make it necessary," the Admiral replied softly. "Neither of us needs another enemy." The hologram's chest rose noticeably as he inhaled deeply. "In the interest of cooperation, I would consider having the hearing aboard your vessel. That way you can see it is fair and impartial before he is formally remanded to my custody."

Leia considered the offer for a moment. "Very well. When will you be ready to come aboard?"

"I have my doubts he knows where Snoke is," Halzet said, "but I'll concede it makes sense to move expeditiously. Expect our arrival in thirty minutes." The transmission cut off abruptly.

"So he wants everything and refuses to give anything," Kryek lamented.

"He does have the tactical advantage," Seastriker said, "and quite possibly the moral high ground." The pilot was leaning against a wall, having deliberately positioned himself outside the view of the holocam. He and Kryek had determined that the Admiral's penchant for order and regulations made it imperative any communication with Halzet come from the properly credentialed, albeit inexperienced, Lieutenant.

Leia's sharp gaze turned to Seastriker. "Let me remind you, your job is to serve as a counselor to him. I find the suggestion that there is any morality behind Halzet's argument disturbing."

"Of course you do," Seastriker said defensively, "but most people will not. And in order to defend him, we need to understand that." His expression softened noticeably. "I'm sorry if I misspoke, General. I lost friends to the First Order too… but knowing what I know now…" He slowly turned his eyes to me. "Justice must be served, but not at the expense of more lives."

Leia let out her breath, some more tension leaving her face. "That's alright Joph." She turned to me. "As much as it pains me, I recognize we all must be held accountable for our choices. But Halzet's approach is simply unacceptable."

"He is encumbered by his emotions just as you are," I said quietly. "And he will not yield his position easily, if ever."

"Holding the initial hearing aboard the _Emancipator_ is nothing but a stunt," Seastriker said. "He is just pushing things further down the road, and trying to make it look like some kind of concession. Eventually, we'll end up back here making the same decision."

Leia frowned slightly. "I agree. Which is why I want you to come up with some way to get Ben out of the system if we need to. But try to keep it quiet. If Halzet somehow gets wind, we will have more trouble."

A small smile crept across Seastriker's lips. "I thought you'd want another option. So I've been working on one." With a few keystrokes, he reconfigured the holoprojector we had just been using to project a navigational display. A spherical representation of Ultan IV resolved itself, followed by representations of several ships. The _Emancipator_ and _Alliance_ were shown in blue, while the _Vision_ and its two escorts appeared in green.

"Right now, our ships and the Republic ships that are still in the system are all orbiting Ultan in a loose gaggle," the pilot said, motioning to the display. "If we alter our orbit by point two degrees and increase our apoapsis by one point four kilometers, we'd get a four minute window on each orbit where the _Emancipator_ is physically between all of the Republic ships and anything we launch from our starboard docking bay."

"And such a small adjustment would appear immaterial to Halzet's crew," Leia said.

"Especially if we make several small tweaks over an hour or two," Seastriker agreed.

"Wouldn't they detect a shuttle the moment it cleared the bay doors?" Kryek asked.

"Probably," Seastriker conceded, "But with the bulk of the _Emancipator_ in the way they won't be able to get a tractor lock on it. It will take some fancy flying, both from the _Emancipator_ and the shuttle, but we should be able to give them enough of a lead that they can make the jump to hyperspace before any of Halzet's ships can get a tractor lock."

"You are assuming they do not launch fighters or use vectored missiles," I pointed out. "At some point they may be willing to destroy the shuttle rather than allow me to escape."

"Which is why I must be aboard the shuttle as well," Leia said.

A wave of surprise flashed across Kryek's face. Seastriker, who had more experience with Leia's irrational ideas, showed only a hint of discomfort with the ideas. "That is quite a risk," Seastriker said diplomatically.

"Not as much as you would think," Leia said. "Halzet may be willing to kill me, but he knows making that call on his own would invite years of investigation and criticism. He'll request orders from Central Command, and then blame his superiors if the result is unfavorable."

Seastriker nodded. "Which buys us another minute or two. More if they are indecisive."

"And if they have standing orders?" Kryek pressed. "Or someone gets trigger happy?"

"No one is saying you need to come along," Leia said dryly.

Seastriker looked at the younger officer. "And if you work some magic at the hearing it might be a moot point."

Kryek shrank back slightly, recognizing the growing burden that was on his shoulders. "I will try."

"I'm sure you will," Leia said sympathetically. "Remember, it is our right to choose what we will risk, and who we will risk it for." Her eyes fell on me once again. I felt a slight chill fall over me as the surge of powerful emotion flowed off of her. "And so long as there is breath in my body, I will give all I have to my son."

A/N: As always, thank you for the follows, faves, views, and expecially reviews. Your support is wonderful!

Up next… the Trial (well hearing) of Kylo Ren!


	51. Chapter 50

A pair of shuttles left the _Vision_ twenty minutes later, taking barely ninety seconds fly the twenty kilometers to the _Emancipator._ Leia, Dameron, and Welles met the Admiral's party in the landing bay; Seastriker led me to refresher where I could change out of the hospital garb.

I splashed cold water across my face, relaxing slightly as I felt its icy embrace. I wet my hands and ran them through my hair, trying to wash away the bacta residue that clung to it. It was a futile task in the time allotted.

Once again clothing had been brought from my shuttle, and I quickly removed my medical gown. The wound in my chest continued to radiate with pain, and I studied what remained of it briefly in the mirror. Despite surgical efforts and bacta treatment, the gash that the shrapnel had cut in me was still quite visible. The area surrounding it was a bright red that contrasted sharply with my pale skin. The other wounds the doctor had spoken of had responded more fully to her treatment and were far less prominent.

I heard Seastriker call from the door as I finished wrapping myself in dark robes, and when I exited the refresher I found he had been joined by Kryek who eyed me strangely.

"Something a bit less… ominous would have been preferable," the Lieutenant said dryly.

"If we had more time I would have tried to find something for him," Seastriker said. He motioned to indicate the substantial height different between him and myself. "Wasn't going to be borrowing my stuff."

Kryek nodded. "I understand, but the less he looks like how people picture Kylo Ren, the better."

"I have no desire to conceal what I am," I interjected.

The Lieutenant raised his eyebrows slightly. "Just in case this wasn't already hard enough."

"Your success or failure will be your own," I replied.

"You have an interest in this too, you know," Seastriker advised. "You might try working with us a bit."

"You do realize what is at stake here?" Kryek asked. "This could be the start of a path ending in execution."

I lowered my gaze slightly to meet Kryek's eyes. "Have you ever been killed Lieutenant?"

The young officer looked taken aback, confusing rankling through his mind. "Excuse me?"

"People fear death far more than they should. Death is so often viewed as worst punishment we can receive, the greatest danger that threatens us. Yet how can we understand it? Perhaps death is the end of suffering, the end of pain. Perhaps it is where one is finally able to put aside the torments of their lives and move on. If that is true, then execution would not be a punishment, but a gift."

"First-hand experience is not required to make an intelligent decision," Seastriker countered. I turned slightly so I could see the pilot in my peripheral vision. "I don't need to try putting my hand in the reactor core to know that it would hurt."

"I would not expect someone with such a narrow perception of reality to understand," I replied.

For a moment Seastriker looked insulted. "You put on an impressive façade, but everyone fears death."

"No one truly fears death. They fear what it means. Pain. Suffering. Uncertainty."

"And you are saying you don't feat any of that?" Kryek asked.

I looked over at him, and he stiffened slightly at my cold, dark stare. "I cannot fear what defines me."

The young officer pursed his lips, then exhaled, but did not respond.

"We should get going," Seastriker said, motioning down the hall. His voice had cooled noticeably.

I could not help but feel unsettled as we walked. I did not fear death. It was merely an occurrence, one of millions of events that defined a beings existence. Simply because it came at the end did not in itself endow it with special significance.

But if I died without achieving my purpose… That was failure. And unlike death, failure was worthy of fear.

Located three decks below the bridge along the starboard side of the ship, Conference Room Two was the largest appropriate space available. Halzet's panel of inquiry would sit on a raised platform along the viewports, the five member body silhouetted by curving surface of Ultan. Two smaller tables faced the dais, one for the prosecution, the other for the defense.

The room had nearly ninety seats, but was mostly empty. Rey, along with half a dozen of Leia's closest confidants sat at the rear. A pair of low-level crewmen were in the process of setting up a holocam, and three security officers stood at equidistant points around the room.

I looked over towards Rey. Our eyes locked, and her mind gave the briefest flicker of hope. Buried beneath frustration and loathing was genuine concern. Despite what she viewed as a betrayal, she would take no pleasure in my demise. Perhaps she understood my motivations, even if she failed to understand my actions. Maybe she, like Leia, held out hope that somehow I could become what they wanted me to be. Or perhaps she knew what my execution would do to her friend and mentor, a woman who had already lost too much.

I had no time to dig deeper. As quickly as I had felt her thoughts they were gone.

Kryek and Seastriker stood off to one side of the room as they waited for the panel to enter. I positioned myself half a meter behind them, waiting to see the men and women that had the audacity to feel they could determine my fate.

Leia entered first with Admiral Halzet to her right. Though they appeared to be engaged in pleasant conversation the air of enmity that hung between them was unmistakable. Behind Halzet was an ageing human Colonel.

"Colonel Maesk Hodin," Kryek said quietly to Seastriker. "He was once an infantry commander for the Empire and defected to the Rebellion shortly after Yavin."

"So he might have some sympathies to a defector," Seastriker replied in a whisper.

Kryek shrugged, his attention already focused on the next officer. "Lonno Deso," he identified the Major, his voice noticeably cooler.

"He was one of the officers that felt the First Order could never become a threat to the Republic," Seastriker said.

The young Lieutenant nodded. "An assertion that he made quite publicly," he added. "And, as I understand it, one that has now effectively ended his career."

Deso was followed by a Mon Calamari female wearing a captain's insignia. The subtle characteristics that distinguished one Mon Calamari from another had never been easy for me to spot, but Kryek had already researched the command officers in Halzet's fleet and knew the commander of each vessel. "Captain Needres," he said. "Captain of the _Defiant_ , and a former student of Ackbar's."

"Perhaps Leia can get Admiral Ackbar to put some pressure on her," Seastriker suggested. "You know, if things start going south."

"Mon Calamari are extremely stalwart when it comes to ethics," Kryek replied. "I doubt Ackbar would be willing to attempt to influence the hearing, and because of that I doubt Leia would be willing to ask him."

The third officer was a young human male also wearing the rank insignia of a Captain. "Eron Djovack," Kryek said. "Youngest officer ever to commander an MC80 cruiser. He was a senior at the academy when I was a freshman."

"You know him?" Seastriker inquired.

"Not really. But he had a reputation of being a pragmatist that has only increased with each command he's held. I think he might see reason."

Seastriker's outer lips twitched down. "You're implying that reason is on our side."

I followed Kryek and Seastriker to the designated table as the panel took their seats, and waited for the proceedings to begin. Admiral Halzet rose slowly, his keen eyes scanning the room. I stared blankly ahead, ignoring his gaze when it fell upon me. After several seconds of carefully calculated silence, the Vice Admiral began his opening statement.

"This hearing is convened for the purpose of evaluating if sufficient cause exists to prosecute Kylo Ren in a Tribunal of the New Republic. I would like to remind all present that this hearing is not intended to prove innocence or guilt; it shall determine if it is appropriate to proceed to a full Tribunal." His tone was practiced, deep and resonant as if he was addressing a much larger crowd. In a way, he was. The entire proceeding was being recorded, and would undoubtedly be distributed to the public at some point in the future. Despite only a few dozen people being in the room, Halzet knew this was a tremendous opportunity. It was merely a hearing, but it was also the start of a process that would bring the infamous Kylo Ren to justice. Billions would see him as the man overseeing my downfall.

"Because of the nature of the defendant, and the severity and quantity of the charges, the Judicial Committee of the Senate determined that this hearing should be overseen by a flag office; as the ranking officer present that solemn responsibility falls to me." He spoke as if overseeing my hearing was a burden, but he was betrayed by his thoughts. To him, this was an opportunity. Not just for revenge, but for advancement. The wounded government of the Republic was frail and searching for strong leadership, and the publicity of this event would provide Halzet the platform from which to transition from military leader to politician.

If, of course, events occurred as he desired. A sneer spread across my face. This was what the so-called free considered justice: a hearing, led by a man both predisposed to seek my demise and poised to gain politically from my imprisonment and execution. The ambitions of individuals would stand in the way of order.

"As the chair of this hearing, I am not a voting member of this panel. To proceed to a tribunal, at least three of the four officers seated beside me must make a determination in the affirmative that a Tribunal is called for." Halzet looked towards the prosecution's table. "I would now like to recognize Colonel Misrana Jool to present the charges."

A slender, female Togruta in a colonel's uniform rose to her feet. She carefully adjusted the datapad in front of her before she began speaking. "Admiral Halzet, distinguished officers, and guests," she began, her tone notably more ominous than the Admiral's. "As a legal officer, I have dedicated my life to seeking justice for crime, to setting right wrongs, to ensuring that rights are protected. But today, I find myself faced with a new challenge, for the actions of Kylo Ren go far behind what can be described as a crime. They are atrocities."

"This is a man," she continued, "not only lacks compassion, but lacks a respect for life itself. The events he has overseen are not combat operations, they are not murders: they are exterminations. They are rooted in an evil so dark that it cannot be understood by those of conscious. He opposes our right to exist, and he challenges our will to survive."

Kryek was on his feet. "Objection, Admiral. This florid rhetoric certainly sounds eloquent, but it predisposes the panel to a certain point of view without presenting any facts relevant in a court of law. I need to request that the counselor make her point with evidence, not an emotional speech."

Halzet looked at the Lieutenant for a moment, trying to hide his anger at the young officer's interruption. The theater of the Colonel's opening argument was certainly fitting with his plans for the proceeding, but casually slapping aside an objection so early in the hearing could make him appear biased. He wanted to be a champion of the Republic, the man who oversaw my fall. But he had to maintain the appearance that he was just and fair in doing so. He shifted his gaze to Jool. "Counselor, would you like to respond?"

Jool's eyes flicked to Kryek than back to the Admiral. "With respect to my counterpart, there is no way to convey the magnitude of Kylo Ren's carnage in traditional legal terms. What he describes as rhetoric is carefully considered description of fact."

It was a coherent argument, if lacking in substance. I could sense relief in Halzet's thoughts, but Kryek was not ready to give up so quickly. "I believe this panel is capable of understanding the facts of the case without embellishment," he said, neatly complimenting the panel while simultaneously questioning the veracity of Jool's claims.

Jool's voice took on a notable edge. "Are you suggesting that I'm presenting exaggerations? That my words are not entirely factual?"

Halzet's expression began to sour. This argument did not fit with the orderly hearing he had envisioned. "Unless the defense can identify a specific and concrete misrepresentation on behalf of the prosecution, the objection is denied." He paused for a moment, almost daring Kryek to speak. The young Lieutenant did not take the bait, and Halzet turned to Jool. "You may proceed with the charges."

"Kylo Ren's actions cover a range of criminal conduct, and there are several thousand potential charges that we have identified. However, in the interest of an orderly proceeding we intend to present eight counts of Crimes Against the Galaxy and a single count of murder."

Lines formed on Kryek's face as he tried to figure out why a single murder charge would be included along eight far more serious crimes. To him it seemed like a trivial addition.

Halzet raised an eyebrow as well, clearly not expecting the final count. "A murder charge?" he asked.

Jool looked up from her data pad and came to her full height. "We intend to charge Kylo Ren with the murder of General Han Solo."

A/N: And thus, as a special chapter 50, the hearing of Kylo Ren begins!

As always, thank you for all your support!


	52. Chapter 51

My hands were wet with proverbial blood. Thousands had ceased to exist—pierced by my blade, strangled by my hands, torn apart by the fury of my dark powers. Millions more had died on my orders, their lives snuffed out by the military might I commanded.

Amidst the charred remains of cities, the broken crust of planets, the scattered bodies of the fallen—amidst a Galaxy of pain and terror, Jool had brought a single death to the forefront.

The air was heavy with a mixture of confusion and surprise, and I could feel their minds struggling to understand her motivations. The Togruta had said she intended to focus on only the most heinous of my crimes, and a single murder—no matter how vile-hardly compared to the brutality the First Order had unleashed across the stars.

Perhaps, at one time, the death of Han Solo would have been consequential to some. Following the fall of the Empire he had been revered as a hero of the Rebellion. But whatever meager value he had to give the Galaxy had long since been exhausted. Even the legends of his exploits had begun to fade as Solo himself had pursued increased anonymity.

Jool's thoughts made it clear there was no sentimentality or emotion behind her condemnation of Han Solo's death. To her it was a method of manipulation: an elegant way to force the few who were willing to stand in my defense to face the cruelty and pain I had brought to their lives. Leia would find herself shielding the man who had slain her husband. Whatever sympathies Rey still had for me would wear thin as she discussed my killing of a man she had hoped could be her adopted father.

Jool brought herself to her full height, and glanced briefly at me before returning her gaze to the panel. "In the case of Kylo Ren, the Government of the New Republic brings the following charges: one count of overseeing a massacre for the destruction of the Hosnian System, one count of overseeing a massacre for the deaths at Tuanul, one count of overseeing a massacre for the destruction of the city of Havin Forde, one count of genocide for the slaughter at the Jedi Academy, one count of slavery for the forced servitude of Stormtroopers, one count of torture as an interrogation technique, one count of torture for pleasure and entertainment, one count of the military use of children for the brainwashing of juveniles for use as Stormtroopers, one count of the suppression of basic rights, and one count of murder for the death of General Han Solo."

Jool paused for a moment, giving the panel a moment to consider the extensive list of crimes she had presented. "Such actions have left a trail of victims and despair. Those fortunate enough to survive have helped us to develop evidence that is sufficient to go to Tribunal. I have no doubt it will be sufficient to gain a conviction thereafter."

The Colonel turned, looking across the entire room. "I do not believe in revenge," she said quietly, "but justice is the foundation upon which all society is built. There must be consequences when morality fails to guide an individual. Kylo Ren has slaughtered the innocent, littering our Galaxy with tears and blood. Today is your chance stand against his wrongs, and declare once and for all that our rights are worth defending." She nodded towards the Admiral. "Thank you, sir."

"The charges have been read," Halzet said evenly. "Does the defense wish to offer an opening argument?"

Kryek stood slowly. "I do, sir." He stepped around the table, pacing back and forth for a moment before stopping directly before where Jool was now seated. "Revenge and consequence," he said gently, turning back towards the panel. "The prosecution claims abhor revenge, yet that is exactly what they propose. Simply because the punishments Colonel Jool refers to are permitted under the law does not make them just. Justice is meant to improve quality of life, to lift us up and make us stronger."

"We have a clear choice before us: allow Kylo Ren to assist us in our own goals, or burn him for his past sins. I understand the feelings of those who have lost friends and loved ones to the First Order. We have all suffered as a result of Kylo Ren's actions. But to seek vengeance at the expense of a better future is both unwise and immoral."

"The defendant has already demonstrated a willingness to work with us in dismantling Snoke's empire. So long as he faces the death penalty, however, he has limited motivations to continue doing so. I am not unreasonable: I know the defendant must face punishment for his crimes, but in pursuing justice so we cannot deprive ourselves of a far more important opportunity."

The young officer closed his eyes briefly, inhaling deeply. "Justice, at its core, is a tool to preserve peace, safety, and tranquility. We undertake this hearing not to punish one man, but to improve our society as a whole. Our obligation is to the future, both for ourselves and for our children."

Kryek slipped behind the table and quietly took his seat. Halzet regarded him carefully for a moment. "The purpose of this hearing is to determine if there is sufficient evidence to proceed to tribunal, not determine a sentence." The Admiral pursed his lips. "It seems to me, you have already conceded that point."

"We have conceded Kylo Ren has taken actions worthy of reproach," Kryek clarified, coming to his feet again. "I have not addressed any of the specific charges. And may I respectfully remind the Admiral that the prosecution has the right to limit the sentence being sought during a hearing."

"And does the prosecution wish to avail itself of that right?" Halzet asked.

Jool was already on her feet, having anticipated the question. "No, sir."

Halzet turned back to Kryek. "Then the defense shall focus on those matters which are relevant to the charges at hand. Your arguments for leniency are not appropriate for this venue."

"Admiral, my words are not mere platitudes. There a real, concrete consequences if we fail to take advantage of the opportunity Kylo Ren has afforded us. And the longer we wait…"

Kryek trailed off as Halzet's face darkened noticeably. "My words are not requests."

"I understand that, sir, but we cannot ignore-"

"You will be able to plea for leniency at a Tribunal," Halzet cut him off, his voice hard and brimming with irritation. "But not now."

"There is no time!" Kryek seethed, stress leaching into his voice as his calm demeanor cracked. "How many more need to die while you we wait for a Tribunal!"

The Admiral's eyes burned into the young officer, who immediately realized he had pushed things too far. "I believe it would be appropriate to take a brief recess," he said slowly, "So that the defense can determine if they wish to continue as part of this hearing." He came to his feet, followed by the rest of the panel. "We will reconvene in thirty minutes."

Kryek turned to Seastriker and me as the officers left. "That… could have gone better," he said, his voice trembling slightly despite his best efforts. "I shouldn't have let myself lose control like that."

"Your passion was rooted in both in both anger and logic," I said slowly. "I will not fault you for either."

Seastriker raised an eyebrow. "Did I just hear that correctly?"

"Anger brings strength, logic results," I replied. "Lieutenant Kryek has demonstrated a capacity for both."

The young Lieutenant's eyes shifted nervously. "I'm not sure how to take that. That isn't really the way _we_ do things."

"We really should take advantage of this time," Seastriker said into the awkward silence. He motioned towards a door. "Meeting room six is available to us."

The meeting room was dominated by a circular table with ten chairs, one of which was already occupied.

"General Organa," Kryek began, "I must apologize for my actions. My inability to articulate my…" He trailed off as Leia raised both hands.

"The problem is not with what you said," Leia replied gently, "but with others willingness to listen."

"Still, I should not lose my composure."

Leia looked down at the table, then back to Kryek. "The entire proceeding is built on emotion. That will not be the last time it boils to the surface."

"Respectfully, ma'am, a prudent councilor can control their emotions."

"And a talented one can manipulate the feelings of others," Leia added. "Both Halzet and Jool will use every opportunity that presents itself." She paused for a moment, her face emotionless but a pronounced wave of sadness ricocheting through her mind. "Han's death… her intent is to bring me pain, the hope that it weakness my resolve."

"That is what I suspected," Kryek said, shifting uncomfortably.

"And it does not end with me. She intends to sow doubt within all of us." She looked up as the door chimed. "Enter."

Dameron stepped through the opening, followed by Rey. "General Organa," the pilot said as he entered the room. "I have some of the information you requested." He thrust a data pad across the table towards his commander.

Leia scanned the documents in contained, the lines around her eyes growing sharper. "These are all of them?"

"Probably not," Dameron said, "But your contacts only have access to holonet transmissions that go through their relay station."

"What is it?" Kryek asked.

Leia handed him the datapad. "A list of names scrounged from Colonel Jool's recent holonet activity. Consider it a likely witness list."

"First Order defectors, Republic officers… and…" Kryek trailed off.

"Some of my most trusted family and allies," Leia said, completing his thought. "As I said: the case is built on emotion. On anger and fear. On tearing us apart."

A/N: It took a while to get this chapter written, and it still is not quite what I want… but its close. Hope you enjoy, and thanks for all the faves, follows, views, and especially reviews!


	53. Chapter 52

"We won't make it easy for them," Kryek said.

"Everyone in this room," Seastriker mused, "Other than me and Jost, is on the list."

Kryek sighed and closed his eyes. "The charge regarding Solo," he said quietly. "She wants to demoralize us, just as you said. But its validity is tenuous at best."

"It won't stick?" Dameron asked skeptically.

Kryek glanced at Dameron, then turned to Leia. "Please forgive the term, but General Solo _was_ an enemy combatant on Starkiller Base. By any modern law… he was a casualty of war, not the victim of a homicide. Trying to prove otherwise would be challenging."

"But it does not matter," Leia said. "So long as Jool can call her witnesses, sow discontent, foster pain… she achieves her objective."

"Not if we can make the panel see that," Seastriker said. "Come out strong, show how the prosecution is needlessly cruel."

"Or, at least, put Jool on the defensive. We need to shake her confidence, show her she is not as in control as she believes." Kryek pursed his lips in thought for a moment, then turned to Leia. "If we can get a charge thrown out quickly, it sets the tone for the proceeding."

Seastriker frowned. "Of course, Halzet determines the order the charges are heard."

"We can petition him to hear the murder charge first," Kryek replied.

"You need a reason to make a petition," Seastriker countered. "A good one if you want it to work. In case you hadn't noticed, he isn't too happy with you."

"It is the only charge we are prepared for," Kryek explained. "The defense witnesses for that portion of the trial are already here. It is the only charge that can proceed without delay."

Leia raised an eyebrow. "Witnesses?"

"You approved the mission," Kryek explained. He turned to Rey. "And you were there. Between the two of you we have ironclad proof that this was a military action, not a murder."

Leia's throat muscles tensed noticeably. "Very well. If it must be done."

"That assumes Halzet is willing to play ball," Seastriker said. "This isn't a full tribunal, there is no law that says he needs to let us call witnesses."

"He can be persuaded to acquiesce," I said quietly.

Dameron's face darkened. "You want to play your little mind games with him?"

"The Admiral is strong of will," I explained, ignoring the pilot's sleight. "To manipulate his thoughts outright would be challenging, and noticeable."

"And immoral," Rey interjected, her voice dripping with loathing. They were the first words she had spoken in my presence since the events on the surface. "You have no right to force your will on him."

"I have _every_ right," I snapped with indignation. His mind was mine to do with as I pleased, even before he became a threat to my existence. "You will be pleased," I continued more calmly, "that I merely intend to reinforce his own doubts. The man seeks adulation, he yearns for power… he knows a misstep here could be an impediment to his ambitions."

"You'll make him scared that if he ignores our petition he'll look impartial," Seastriker said with understanding. "That any goodwill he builds here could come crashing down on him in the future."

"It is a thought that he will have, I will simply ensure it manifests full so that it may dictate his actions."

"It is still wrong," Rey said.

"Is it wrong to influence the mind of your captor in order to secure your release?" I asked. Rey did not reply, but I could tell she understood. "The Jedi have manipulated the minds of the weak since their beginning," I continued, "implanting thoughts that ensure their will is done. I intend nothing so invasive; I simply strengthen a thought he already has."

"You will not cause him pain?" Leia asked.

"None that does not originate within his own thoughts."

"Then if it must be done…" Leia trailed off, briefly locking eyes with an obviously irritated Rey before turning her attention to the other officers. "Lieutenant Kryek, Commander Seastriker, I'd like you to prepare our petion and prepare your defense. Use my office if you need terminal access. Commander Dameron, return to the comms center and monitor any communications between the ships in Halzet's fleet or Holonet transmissions."

"Most of that will be encrypted," Dameron said.

Leia's eyebrows rose slightly. "Try."

I remained still as the other officers left the room, returning her gaze without emotion and contemplating the futility of her efforts. She continued to convince herself that her son still existed. To her, the Dark Side was an ailment that could be cured, an impurity that could be purged.

"I can't…" Rey said slowly. "I will not lie to defend what is wrong."

"No one is asking you to lie," Leia said calmly.

"Han was there as a father, not a soldier."

"He carried both responsibilities with him. It is something I think about every day," she said quietly. "I told him to bring our son home." She inhaled deeply and wiped a tear from her right eye. "You know I feel the pain of Han's loss more than anyone. We may have had our differences, but…" She closed her eyes, searching for words amongst her tumultuous thoughts. I could feel the pain in her mind, the barely contained sadness tearing her apart from within. "In a Galaxy of souls he was unique. The stars are dimmer with him gone." Her eyes flickered to me, then back to Rey, as thin, pleading smile forming on her lips. "Ben is all that is left of him now."

"But Han still died," Rey protested.I found myself swallowing involuntarily as I processed the young woman's sudden vitriol. The abrupt flare of emotion exploded outward like a solar wind. As the initial wave of anger subsided, sadness took hold and she looked back at Leia, her eyes wet with uncried tears. "I can't forget what happened… and… if you cared for Han at all you wouldn't want this either. If you loved Han, you'd want what is right, not what is easy."

To my surprise Leia's expression darkened. Within her mind I sensed a flash of frustration bordering on anger as her emotions surged forward. "Do not presume to dictate what I should do," she said, the weight of her words causing Rey to flinch noticeably. "Han would never want his death to be an impediment to his son's future," she continued, her voice softer but still confident. "And so long as my son is with us, Han did not die in vain."

"Han is _dead_ because of his son," Rey protested.

"Because he _loved his son_ ," Leia said firmly.

A/N: A short chapter, but it took longer than most to write! Hope you enjoy, and thanks as always!


	54. Chapter 53

Rey was neither gullible nor driven by memories of a weak, naïve child. She had seen the ferocity of actions, felt the hatred in my mind. She had sensed the remnants of the light, only to see them engulfed in darkness. While the light persisted, the Dark Side defined me. It could no more be separated from my being than the blood in my veins.

One day she would break free of the shackles Skywalker and other had imposed on her. For now, her mind was clouded by the warnings of the feeble. Those who lacked the ability to control the raw power of the Dark Side chose to fear it, and their counsel kept Rey from accepting her destiny.

To Leia I was her child. To Rey I was a monster.

How little they understood…

The last traces of frustration drained from Leia, replaced by renewed melancholy. "A lot of people are gone because of what Snoke _did to my Son_. That blood is not on his hands, the blame lay with Snoke.

"Maybe." Rey raised her hand, pointing at me for emphasis. "But that thing is not your Son. Whatever Ben Solo was has been corrupted, twisted…"

"But it is still him," Leia said, "You can feel it. You _know it's true._ "

"I look at him I feel suffering, anger, and hate." Rey inhaled deeply. "Whatever is good is left is entombed so deep within it can no longer break free. And I might be able to forgive Ben Solo, but not what he has become."

"She is not incorrect." I paused for a moment as both women turned to look at me. "You are both perceptive; you can see more than I would allow if the choice were mine to make... Yet you," I said, looking at Leia, "Interpret what you observe with your emotions, not with logic."

"Logic alone does not explain everything," Leia answered firmly. "The universe is not so simple."

"Perhaps not," I admitted, tilting my head to the side. "But I see the truth with great clarity. I see what the Force shows me, what you refuse to understand."

"You see only what your arrogance allows you to," Rey said sharply.

I turned to her. "And you hold yourself back by accepting her beliefs, by adhering to Skywalker's teachings." I favored her with the smallest of smiles. "You have a strange ability find all those who have impacted my life with weakness and ignorance."

Rey snorted. "I would rather accept limits than let my soul become as putrid and twisted as yours."

I pressed my lips together tightly, as my amusement boiled into anger. She was delusional and naïve, but I could not hold her accountable for her failings. "I do not have the luxury of clinging to a narrow view of morality," I said. "I see what is necessary, what must be done, and I act accordingly."

"You justify what you have done by claiming you have a larger purpose," Rey replied. "You look forward to some made up destiny because to look backward, to accept the truth… it would be too painful." She turned to Leia. "There is light in him, but he cannot exist without suppressing it. He is not strong enough to face what he has done."

"You know nothing of strength!" I shouted.

"And you fear you won't be strong enough, not as strong a Darth Vader."

My face contorted as a wave of anger and pain seared through me. "No. I need to be stronger. I cannot allow myself to give up my purpose."

"Anakin Skywalker did not give up; he found redemption in love."

"And in doing so failed to achieve his destiny," I replied. "I will not allow myself to be seduced by the light."

"Because you aren't strong enough to return to the light," Rey snapped. "To face what you have become. It would tear you apart."

I stared back at her, a new level of rage igniting within. My trembling hands slowly curled into fists. I exhaled, the air hot and venomous as it passed between my clenched teeth. How dare she question my purpose! How dare she doubt my power!

"And that is why you wallow in darkness," she continued. "Not because of some lofty goal. Not because of destiny. Because you are too scared to face the truth, too weak to survive without the lie!"

Her continued insinuations were absurd. My blade had cut a path of blood across the Galaxy, and it was a path I would continue until I achieved the glory that was denied my Grandfather. The darkness had given me supremacy over all I touched. I was at the precipice of greatness, poised to complete what no one had before. To achieve the inconceivable.

I regarded Rey for several seconds, the anger and hate flowing through me, every part of my body burning. And yet, the same doubts that plagued me—the indecision that kept the flame of the light alive—stood out against the darkness, trying with renewed vigor to pierce the black vessel in which I sought to contain them.

And for the briefest of moments, I contemplated her words. Perhaps at one time a fear of consequences fought against the omnipresent pull of the light, but that was before I had truly understood the magnitude of my destiny. The significance of what I could achieve. I had moved beyond simply being afraid of judgment for my actions and fully embraced what I had become.

Hadn't I?

Rey could sense my thoughts, and the antipathy behind her hazel eyes diminished suddenly. Her mask of disgust disintegrated into sadness, hostility shifting to despair. "And that is why he died," she said quietly, her voice trembling. "So you could live your lie."

"He died because of his arrogance!" I spat, renewed hostility surging through my veins. She was wrong. She had to be wrong. " _He_ could not accept the truth, and he fought for his fiction until his dying breath."

"No," Leia said, her voice deep and gruff. "He gave his life trying to set you free. Free from Snoke. Free the burdens you carry. To liberate you from the shackles of the Dark Side."

"But you refused to accept what he offered," Rey said. Her tone was shriller than Leia's. "You could have walked away then. But you were not strong enough. You took the coward's way out."

I bit down on my tongue, my incisors cutting deep into the fibrous muscle with a surge of pain. I savored the sensation, letting the warm blood flow freely across my lips. "I am no coward," I said quietly, small drops of blood falling from the corners of my mouth as I spoke.

"You may have power," Rey said, "but you are defined by fear. The strongest coward is still a coward."

I flinched, a wave of fury igniting my spine like a flare. The heat radiated through my chest. "You think it was easy? To do what I did?"

"No," Rey said. "Whatever shreds of compassion you have left, whatever vestiges of love remain in you rancid soul, I'm sure they fought you. But they lost, because it was easier than looking at the blood on your hands while standing in the light."

"It hurt you more than you realize," Leia said. "Even now, I can feel your discomfort. Whenever I mention him, whenever you think of him."

"He was nothing to me," I replied, knowing that the tempest of my emotions was betraying the certitude of my language. I licked the blood from my lips, relishing its taste as I struggled to restore my inner calm.

"He was your father." Leia stood slowly. "And he believed in you. Always. When you were a child. When you left for the academy. Even when the darkness descended… he believed."

I looked back at her, scraping the wound on my tongue across my molars as I struggled to maintain my composure. I could feel the compassion, the sadness, brooding within in me, trying to force tears from my eyes. "His mistake," I said quietly from trembling lips.

"He was right!" Leia said emphatically, a strange sense of optimism surging through her. "I can still feel the good. Behind the fury, surrounded by pain… but it is there. Shrouded by a dark and unrelenting disguise, but not gone."

I returned her hopeful gaze without emotion, hardening myself to her assault. My mind became a bastion, warding off the hope, the compassion, the love. But still, I could feel the pull of the light. It was stronger now, resisting my efforts to temper its influence.

"Does it matter?" I asked solemnly. "The Force has guided my evolution. I have become what I am destined to be. Whether anything of what I was before remains… is irrelevant."

"That was not the guidance of the Force," Leia said. "Snoke manipulated you, used you."

 _Snoke is using you for your power_. A cold shiver ran down my spine. _You know it's true_.

"What Snoke wanted…" I said, lowering my head. My voice was strained by constricting throat muscles as emotion rose like bile from my chest. "It doesn't matter. I am no longer his servant. I seek my own destiny now." I swallowed and raised my head. "Alone."

"Then you condemn yourself to darkness," Rey said, her tone strangely grave. "You do not have the strength to walk the path to redemption alone."

There was a surge of anger within me, but it dissipated as Leia put her hand on my shoulder. The skin was rough, tired, and worn from decades of war, but her touch was filled with energy. With warmth. I closed my eyes; I did not want to accept her compassion but neither did I want to turn it away.

"There is no redemption." I looked at her, feeling my eyes moisten slightly. "I… once considered the possibility, but there is no light bright enough to eliminate the blackness of malice within me."

Leia drew closer, wrapping her arms around me. I did not reciprocate, but neither did I resist. "Whatever it takes, I will be here for you."

Her emotions swept across me with renewed strength, an inexorable surge of hope and love. It was tempting, a soothing elixir that tore through me with the ferocity and power of a thousand stars. "I will not choose to be weak," I said, my voice strained.

"I'm asking you to show me your strength."

I shook my head. "It is not that simple. I am not who you want me to be. And I never will be." I pushed her away gently, fighting a part of my soul that wanted nothing more than reciprocate her embrace. "After all that I have seen, that I've done, that I've felt… I cannot return to what I was."

"As I said," Rey affirmed. "You cannot face what you've become."

"I cannot change what I am," I corrected, my voice quiet but firm.

"You are my son," Leia said resolutely. "That has never changed."

My lip twitched. "I have his form, but not his thoughts," I replied. "Perhaps what Rey says is true, that Ben Solo could not live with the actions I have taken. But Ben Solo is gone."

Leia looked at me longingly. "He's conflicted and hurt. But not gone. Never gone."

A/N: This chapter took a lot of little tweaks, hence the delay. As always, thank you for the follows, faves, views, and reviews!


	55. Chapter 54

The ferocity in his eyes hid the fear of the towering creature. It loomed menacingly over him, its face twisted and disfigured. Yet his rage tempered his panic.

"You have done well," the creature said slowly, its deep voice devoid of emotion.

"What you had me do," the tall young man stammered, his words laced with fury. "What you… those people."

"It was what must be done," the towering monster said. "You were the strongest. Therefore you must complete the journey alone."

"I could have…" He grimaced, looking at the ground before reluctantly returning his gaze to the perverse figure before him. "They didn't need to die for me to follow the path."

"Our objectives are too important for such distractions," the creature replied, its voice softening slightly. "They would have opposed your destiny."

"Then I would have defeated them," the young man replied firmly, the skin on his face pulled tight as he fought the urge to lash out against the monster that had led him to slaughter those that had once been his friends. "Those who oppose me would fall."

"Your morality... It is strong within you. Your sense of _good_." The creature paused, as if waiting for a response, but the man remained silent. After several seconds it turned away, taking several steps back towards its stone throne. "It will not serve you. The galaxy does not have the patience for morality. Strength requires a willingness to do what must be done."

"I understand, but they had not acted against us. They were innocent."

"And if you had waited, what would have changed?" the creature demanded, the booming voice suddenly harsh. "They would have tried to stop us. You know that to be true."

The man looked down, his eyes scanning the irregular cracks in the stone floor. "Their blood was always destined to be on my hands," he whispered, his voice weak and laced with uncertainty.

"That is correct." The skeletal form settled onto its throne. "Your focus must be on your training, and your destiny. Not constant threats from them. Even in defeat they would waste your time, your energy." Snoke leaned forward slightly. "There was no other option."

"No…" the young man said softly. "The choice was mine. I gave into fear. I…" He paused, his mouth agape as remorse swept through him, ravaging his consciousness like a vicious acid. "I murdered them."

Snoke regarded him for a moment. "You carried out my will. The will of the universe." A new layer of malice was present in his words.

"But there could have been another way."

Snoke's face darkened noticeably, the twisted mess contorting into something even more sinister. "There is no room for doubt of your purpose," he said.

"My purpose…" the young man replied, his voice cracking slightly as he struggled to hold back tears. "I have only your assurance as to what my purpose is," he continued, his tone hardening. "And that it required the slaughter my friends."

"You are the Grandson of Darth Vader," Snoke spit out. "Yet you are so weak you would allow trivial personal relationships to threaten your destiny?"

Ben Solo drew himself to his full height. "I am not weak," he hissed through clenched teeth.

A malevolent smile spread across the old creature's face as it slowly rose. "Let us see."

It began as warmth, starting in the extremities and proceeding inward. As it reached his torso the intensity increased dramatically, and suddenly his body was burning from within. Overwhelming heat, pain, and pressure lanced through him, and Solo crumpled to the ground. The force of the impact fractured his right shoulder, but that pain was immaterial compared to the agony boiling through him. Every vein came alive with fire. His chest contracted, and breathing ceased.

He opened his mouth to pleas for mercy, but no sound emerged.

Snoke took another step forward. "Your insolence will not be tolerated." The monster bet forward slightly. "If you are unable to separate yourself from the light, you will burn in it."

'Please stop' Solo mouthed, still unable to speak.

"This is suffering," Snoke said, ignoring the plea for mercy. "True agony. It is all that awaits for you if you turn away from the darkness. Away from me."

Suddenly the burning ceased, and Solo's mouth opened involuntarily as he gasped for air. "You must face a new reality," Snoke continued. "It is not easy, nor is it painless. But it is what must be done."

Solo struggled to turn his head enough to face his master, bloody tears streaming down his cheeks. "I do not wish to live with this pain."

"Pain is a constant. Pain will never cease. But to return to the light would be to face it through the weak, naïve lens of those who cannot understand your purpose. But with me, with the darkness…" The scarred face curled into a smile once more. "It will strengthen you and lead you to your destiny."

Solo managed to roll onto his side, still breathing heavily. Images of the academy blazed through his thoughts: the blood, the terror… Friends and children pleading for mercy as his rage fueled massacre continued. "I would rather die than live in this agony." He propped himself up, wincing as a splitting pain shot through his arm. He turned towards Snoke, hatred in his eyes. "What you have made me, it is-"

"Then end it," Snoke spat. "You have the power."

Solo's eyes studied the creature's cold eyes. His gaze remained locked on Snoke as his trembling hand reached for the lightsaber on his belt.

"End it," Snoke repeated. "Admit you lack the strength. Show the Galaxy your weakness, your failure."

"I am not weak," Solo replied, but the words sounded cold and uncertain, his breathing shallow and erratic. "I do this because I am strong." He unhitched the lightsaber, raising it and pressing it against his chest. He swallowed, trying to hold back tears as he realized the flip of a single switch would burn through his chest and end this forever.

If Snoke was feeling any emotions they did not show on his alien features. "You are strong," he admitted, "but there is so much more. The laws of time and space shall answer to our will. Everything in creation shall bow before us." The hideous creature let our labored breath. "You know that. You _want_ that. And the pain," he spat, "will fuel your power."

Solo shivered as the Supreme Leader's words lanced through him like cold daggers. He had given up everything for power—family, friends, the beliefs he had been taught since he was a child. It would be foolish to turn back now, after relationships were severed and blood spilled. He had sacrificed so much.

Still, the images of his friends dying faces haunted his mind. And he was terrified by the knowledge that more lay ahead. The path to power was paved with death. His thumb moved closer to the lightsaber's switch.

"You were right," Snoke said into his thoughts, "You made a choice. But it was not to take a life. It was to achieve the glory you so richly deserve. The power only I can bestow upon you. Once you made the decision, nothing else mattered."

Power. Strength. Destiny.

The power to do whatever he willed. The strength to stand against all that opposed him. And his Destiny: to be the man who restored order to the Galaxy.

Or he could descend into the void, into whatever awaited those who lacked the courage to set aside their obsolete convictions and ascend to greatness.

Solo slowly rose to his feet, his body aching, the rage still dancing in his eyes. "I know," he said softly.

"Hope and compassion will force you from your journey," Snoke warned. "You must not allow them to overwhelm you."

Solo remained still, his weapon still against his chest. Hope… the Rebel Alliance had been built on hope, the belief that the impossible was merely difficult. And hope had triumphed for a time. But the heart of the Galaxy built on hope was rotten.

His world had come crashing down amid the revelation that his Grandfather was, in fact, Darth Vader. The great Senator Organa fell from power overnight as news of her secret spread across the Republic. And Ben Solo suddenly saw how little compassion there truly was, how transitory the accomplishments of hope could be.

The only accomplishments that mattered were those that were accomplished by force, and only those with great power could achieve such change.

Solo lowered his weapon. "I understand… master."

"Not yet," Snoke said. "But you will." The creature's eyes narrowed. "For today, Ben Solo… ends."

A/N I think it is important to realize that just as Kylo's redemption is not easy, his descent into darkness could not have been either.

As always, thank you so much for your support and I hope you enjoy!


	56. Chapter 55

"Per Article Seven, section thirty, paragraph six of Amended Code of the Republic, I want to challenge the charge of murder on the grounds of validity of the charge itself." Kryek was stoic as we waited for a response.

"That is the only charge you wish to contest?" Halzet asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"No, sir. It is the only charge we wish to challenge in accordance with Article Seven, section thirty, paragraph six. We intend to argue against the other charges, but the prosecution has no standing to bring a murder charge in this situation."

A slight scowl crossed the Admiral's lips. "Does the prosecution wish to contest the Article Seven challenge?"

Jool was on her feet before Halzet was done speaking. "Of course, sir. I would not bring a charge that was improper nor without precedent."

"If she has precedent, that could derail this whole thing," Seastriker murmured next to me.

"I did kill the man," I whispered in reply. "Whether they define it as murder or an act of war does nothing to change that."

"But it changes how they punish you for it," Seastriker said, frustration raising the volume of his voice enough to draw attention.

Halzet glared warningly at Seastriker for a moment, then returned his focus to Kryeck and Jool. "The defense has indicated that they do not believe the charge of murder for the death of Han Solo is appropriate and should be summarily dismissed. They may present their argument."

"With respect to my colleague," Kryek said, giving Jool a polite and carefully calculated nod, "Han Solo was a member of a military team organized by the Resistance for the purpose of infiltrating and destroying the First Order military installation known as Starkiller Base. At that time the defendant was charged by the First Order with the defense of the installation. Thus, both Solo and the defendant were acting in their respective capacities of opposing militaries, and a death occurring as a result of such military action is not considered murder under Article Fourteen of the Amended Code of the Republic."

Halzet considered that for a moment, before turning to the prosecutor. "Colonel Jool?"

"Section six hundred forty nine of Article Fourteen discusses the requirements to consider a death to be the result of military action rather than a murder, one of which is that both parties must be acting on orders of a _recognized government_ in a military capacity. I will accept that Kylo Ren was; but the New Republic has never recognized the Resistance as a government, merely a militia group."

"The intent of the passage is clear," Kryek argued. He had anticipated Jool's challenge. "And there has never been a case where New Republic has failed to accept that it applies to someone acting on the orders of a military group, even a private security force for that matter!"

Jool stood silently for a moment. There was no hint of surprise nor defeat in her thoughts. Instead, her mind held the cautious anticipation of a predator closing in on its prey. "I do not feel the precedent is as strong as the Lieutenant claims; however, I will leave to this panel to make that determination." She looked at Halzet, than back at Kryek. "Of course, even if we accept that the Resistance qualifies under Section six forty nine, we still have no solid evidence that those orders were given."

"General Organa will provide testimony in any form you need to corroborate my statements," Kryek said.

Jool turned to Halzet. "Forgive me sir, but the defense cannot accept testimony of the defendant's mother as the sole basis of establishing fact."

"The General is a war hero and distinguished leader," Kryek retorted his voice sharp and icy. His loyalty to Leia was obvious, and he took the attack on her credibility as a personal assault.

"Who concealed her true identity from the people she led," Jool countered sharply. "I will not prevent her from testifying, but her testimony needs to be confirmed by someone with at least passing impartiality in this case."

Kryek frowned for a moment. "This is absurd," he mumbled.

"Either address the panel or remain quiet," Halzet rebuked him.

"This is absurd!" the young officer repeated, more loudly this time. "You cannot prevent sworn testimony simply because the witness has a relationship with the accused."

"You are correct," Halzet said. "It is the duty of this panel to determine if the testimony should be considered, not the prosecution." The admiral interlocked his fingers and rested his hands on the table before him.

Kryek brought himself to attention. "Then the Defense requests that General Leia Organa, Commander of the Resistance, former Senator of the Republic, and hero of the Rebellion, be called to testify."

Halzet nodded and turned to his left. "Captain Djovack, please swear in the witness."

The young officer stood and walked around the dais, taking a copy of the New Republic charter from a junior officer as we continued to the center of the room. Leia met him there.

The thin Captain held out the document towards her. "General Organa, please place your right hand on the Charter of the Republic." His voice was formal and professional, but there was a strain, a sadness in his thoughts. Behind the clear young eyes was a man disturbed, but about what I could not discern.

He waited for Leia to do as instructed, and then continued: "Under penalty of perjury, do you solemnly affirm that all testimony and evidence presented is factual and accurate."

"I do," Leia said, her voice devoid of any emotion.

Djovack motioned to a solitary chair that had been placed between the tables of the defense and the prosecution. "Please have a seat." He turned away to take his place on the panel.

"General Organa," Kryek said, turning so that he could see both Leia and the officers of the panel. "As you know, the court desires to determine if Han Solo was acting as an agent of a military organization during the mission to destroy Starkiller Base. Was he?"

Leia looked briefly at Kryek, then locked eyes with Halzet. "Han was acting on my orders."

"You being the commander of the Resistance, and Han a member?"

"Yes." Leia did not elaborate further.

Kryek turned to Halzet. "I have no further questions."

The Admiral nodded. "Colonel Jool, do you wish to question the witness?"

The Togruta was immediately on her feet. "Yes, sir." The plain expression on her face hid the vicious excitement welling within. "You said Han Solo was a member of the Resistance?"

"Yes."

"Since when? It was my understanding he had been involved in other… activities."

"When he learned of the threat posed by the First Order. He realized he could not stand by and let everything good crumble."

Jool nodded. "And was he formally commissioned? Did he hold rank? Was there an oath of enlistment?"

Leia frowned slightly. "He agreed to serve the needs of the Resistance."

"Forgive me, General," Jool said, Leia's title not sounding as respectful as it should coming from the prosecutor's lips, "But that seems rather vague. The distinction matters: was he an _ally_ or a member of the Resistance?"

"Objection!" Kryek said sharply. "General Organa has already answered the question. And, as commander of the Resistance, she has the authority to determine who is a member of her organization."

Halzet frowned slightly, but he sustained the objection. After all, we had to maintain at least the appearance of objectivity. "The administrative processes of the Resistance are not a concern of this panel; I will accept General Organa's statement unless the prosecution has contradictory evidence."

"No sir," Jool said, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice. She turned back to Leia. "You told Lieutenant Kryek that the purpose of the mission was to destroy Starkiller base. Is that correct?"

Leia was quiet for a moment, trying to understand the motivation behind the question. "That was a purpose, yes," she answered cautiously.

The prosecutor tilted her head. "A purpose? May I ask what the other purpose there was?"

"To recover my son," Leia said softly. "To bring him home."

"Your son being Kylo Ren."

"That is not his name," Leia said, a hint of irritation breaking through her calm voice a like a single wave on a placid sea. Insignificant, yet unmistakable.

"If it was part of the mission, why were not all members of the team told about this objective?"

"Objection," Kryek said, "Speculation."

Jool snapped around to face Halzet and held up a datapad. "Sworn testimony from a member of the team stating he had not been given any instructions regarding Kylo Ren."

The traitor. Yet again he had managed to cross my path, and to bring pain to those he called _friends_.

A flicker of embarrassment crossed Kryek's face as he nodded slowly. "Withdrawn."

"Please answer the question, General," Halzet instructed.

Leia took a deep breath, her glacial expression began to melt. "He was the only one I could ask to take that risk; the only one who would understand."

Jool's eyes narrowed slightly. "Did you order Han Solo to capture Kylo Ren?"

Her eyes were beginning to look damp as she struggled to hold back the pain within. "I told a father to bring his son home."

"You told? You didn't order?"

Her lips trembled as she struggled with the question, knowing its significance and also knowing the truth: her words had not mattered. Solo would have sought me out regardless, blinded by his belief that the past could somehow be restored. But the wounds were far deeper than he realized, the flames far more intense.

And he had conveniently ignored that the pain had not begun with Snoke.

A/N: Sorry about the wait! Between work, life, and a compressed class for my master's degree things have been crazy! Hopefully they will calm down soon.

As always, thank for the faves, follows, views, and reviews! Your support means so much!


	57. Chapter 56

Jool questioned Leia for an additional sixteen minutes. Sixteen minutes of questions designed to elicit emotional responses, to shake her resolve.

The prosecutor's inquiries were an unrelenting torture for Leia, but she remained steadfast. The inexorable avalanche of sadness within her was only hinted at by her expression. The occasional twitches, rogue tears, and brief pauses were mere shadows of the agony within. Despite the pain, she remained poised, channeling strength I had not expected her to have.

Still, the exhaustion was evident on her face when she was finally allowed to step done. The sadness transformed into uncertainty as her thoughts turned to a self-critique of her performance on the stand. I could feel herself question every word she had uttered, agonizing over how she had been perceived by the panel.

"Counselors, do you have any additional information to present?" Halzet asked.

Jool's eyes briefly flicked to Rey, as if considering compelling her to testify, then to me. Yet again her impassive face failed to conceal the excitement within. "It would be appropriate to hear from the defendant."

Kryek's head snapped around to me, his face a mixture of surprise and concern. His mind was reeling, searching for something he could cite to prevent me from taking the stand in my own defense. I could sense his fear growing as nothing came to mind.

"Very well," Halzet said solemnly. "Captain Djovack?"

Djovack got to his feet and walked around the dais. I slowly stood, walking towards him deliberately. As he approached me I could sense his fear. His throat muscles moved rapidly, the skin on his face tense and pale. He held out the Charter of the Republic and waited for me to put my hand on it.

After a moment of hesitation I did so, watching him recoil slightly as my gloved fingers came into contact with the Charter. He inhaled shakily, then repeated the oath once more: "Under penalty of perjury, do you solemnly affirm that all testimony and evidence presented is factual and accurate."

He was about my height, and our eyes locked for a moment. I met his timid stare with a practiced veil of impassiveness. "As you wish."

Djovack looked at the Admiral, uncertain if the man would be willing to accept my non-standard answer. Halzet nodded, and the young captain returned to his seat as I walked to the center of the room and took a seat.

"Kylo Ren," Jool began slowly. "That is the term of address you prefer?"

I returned her gaze for a moment before nodding slightly. I resisted the urge to explain it was the only one that was relevant.

The Togruta seemed to consider her next words carefully, though I sensed she already knew precisely what she wanted to say. "Do you deny killing Han Solo?"

"No."

"Was he a threat to you when you killed him?"

My lips twitched slightly. "Yes."

Jool titled her head to the right, seeming surprised by my admission. "In what way?"

I felt a more significant facial tick this time. "He desired to destroy me."

Jool frowned. "General Organa has testified he wanted to help you."

"What I am is something he could not understand. Something that had surpassed what he thought I could ever achieve." It turned slowly to Leia, unmoved by the tears forming in her eyes. "He couldn't comprehend what I am, so instead he sought to change it. To make me weak again."

"So you killed him," Jool said, the volume of her voice rising. "You burned a hole through the chest of the man that gave you life, that raised you!"

"You know nothing of him," I snapped, "What he truly is."

"I know he loved you, that he gave his life for you."

The burning within intensified, and I regarded Jool with hate. I had not killed man that loved me. I killed the man that tried to change me, to stop me. Everything for a purpose. For her to suggest otherwise; I wouldn't have-

"Objection!" Kryek yelled.

I ignored him. "He gave his life for himself. Trying to get what he wanted, not what I desired."

"He was your _father_."

"YET I AM NOT HIS SON!" I yelled. "I am so much more than his son could ever be!"

"What are you then?" Jool demanded. "What are you that gives you the life to take his life!"

"I am the fist that brings order, the blade that brings stability," I replied, my voice quiet but laced with menace. "For all your attempts to hide it, deep down in the recesses of your thoughts you know the truth: peace and security can only be attained through violence and fear. Pain is the only true motivator, the only thing that compels all sentient beings. You can deny it all you like, pretend that your great democracies will be your salvation. But time after time they burn, the flames of reality tearing apart everything you have built."

For the first time since the hearing had begun Jool looked truly off-balance, unsure how to respond. The room was silent but for the hiss of air circulating. Even Halzet, eager to sentence me to whatever punishment he could, seemed shocked at my statement.

Jool's expression darkened as she recovered. "How dare you presume what you are is in our interest, that you have the right to kill billions for some mythical greater good."

"Because I am the one who is willing to do whatever it takes to achieve their objectives," I hissed. " _That_ is why I exist. I do not seek to acquire power; I am obligated to do so. The Force has chosen me, because it knows I have the courage to serve. To do what must be done."

My words shook Leia deeply, once again reminding her that Ben Solo would not return. That whatever happened next, whatever fate I was condemned to endure I would face as what I am, not what I was. Slowly rising to her feet, she quietly left the rear of the room, almost unnoticed by those in attendance.

"The Jedi brought stability for millennia. They did so in peace and with compassion."

"And they fell," I countered.

"Because of people like you."

"Because it is inevitable," I spat. "Governments fall. Fear is everlasting. The only thing that can survive the inferno, is what has been forged by it."

A/N. A short chapter, but after writing several chapters I decided to go in a slightly different direction and it required some substantial revisions! Hope you enjoy, and as always thank you for the support!


	58. Chapter 57

Leia was waiting in the conference room when Kryek and I arrived, visibly shaken. The tears had dried, and the sadness within her was now mixed with frustration, and even anger.

"What the hell were you doing?" she demanded.

I could not help but marvel in the irony. Not only had I upheld the virtues she extolled by speaking without a hint of deception, but I had managed to elicit anger and fear from her. Seeing the folly of her own morality had torn apart her carefully controlled emotions, exposing a darkness she had tried to keep hidden. Perhaps it was a darkness she had refused to admit she possessed.

"I told the truth."

"You attacked every value the people in that room hold dear. Everything that makes us who we are. That wasn't the truth; it was a manifesto against civilization!"

"What did I say that has not been _proven_?" I hissed. "History has etched these truths across the cosmos. The pervasiveness of weakness does _nothing_ to change that."

"Danger is a result of living," Leia replied. She had calmed herself noticeably, but both her voice and thoughts were charged with raging emotion. "Of existing. What you can't see is we are defined by how we face it more than how effective we are."

"How we face it," I echoed sardonically. "Like Skywalker. How he faced challenges?"

Leia shook her head. "He fought for you, for all of us."

I sneered. "Then he ran away like a coward. Unwilling or unable to take responsibility for what he had done. Yet you hold him out as an example of moral superiority? He espoused high and mighty ideals, but they are not reflected in his actions. And despite these failings, he had the _audacity_ to expect others to abide by the arcane rules of the Jedi."

"That's not fair."

"At least your weakness is caused by an inability to bury natural emotions. Your attachment to Solo, to Skywalker." _To me_. "But Skywalker has chosen to be weak. He chose a path that limits him, and when others see the errors of his ways he attempts to blind them with self serving arguments and flawed logic." I stepped closer to Leia, towering over her. "He is NOTHING, because that is what he has chosen to be!"

For a moment Leia was still, her throat moving noticeably as she tried to refute my words. Deep down, though, she knew she could not. Her brother, once a beacon of light, had abandoned her and everything she loved. She understood his motivations; maybe even agreed with them. But she could not accept them.

My eyes darted about quickly as a struggled to process the sheets of emotion rolling off her, shielding myself from her cancerous thoughts. The more time I spent with her, the more her own sadness tore at my psyche, the more her compassion poisoned my soul. I refused to submit to weakness, but she was continually trying my strength.

As if sensing my struggle she did what I could not anticipate. Reaching out with both arms, she embraced me, pulling herself tightly against me. I resisted the urge to flinch as her action put pressure on still healing wounds. I would not give her the gratification of a reaction.

She lowered her head against my chest. "No one should need to go through what you have," she said quietly. "We all failed you. Me. Han. Luke." She pulled slightly away so she could look up at my face.

"You trusted them," I said quietly. "You believed that they could achieve good." I inhaled sharply, trying to keep my temper at bay. "But they abandoned you. For all their supposed morality, for the good you saw within them. _They left you._ "

Another surge of feeling radiated outward from her, lancing through me like , and tears began to stream down Leia's face. She didn't agree—at least, she didn't want to agree. But the results were undeniable. Fate could be dictated by inaction and withdrawal. "And now, I just—I can't fail you again. No matter what." After a moment of hesitation, she inhaled deeply. "There is nothing more important than that."

I dropped downward, putting her eyes level with mine, my muscles tensing tightly as my mind struggled to repel a torrent of sadness and compassion. "Then _trust me now._ End this façade."

I could feel Leia's body tremble against mine, her arms still wrapped around me but without the same tenacity as before. "What do you want?" she asked in a whisper.

It was a simple question, yet the answer had a complexity I could not express. I wanted nothing and everything. Power and servitude. Destruction and peace. Whatever it took to mold the Galaxy into the image the Force desired.

"Purpose," I said, my only voice only slightly louder than hers. And that meant I needed cleanse the Galaxy of those that could oppose me. Those who stood between me and the destiny I sought, the destiny the Force sought for me.

First among them was the vile creature that had helped me see my path, only to allow its own ambitions to stand against the will of the Force. In its impetuous rush to power it had lost sight of purpose, having the audacity to put its own desires ahead of what the Force commanded. Its strength was unquestionable, its power undeniable. But the heinous brute had become corrupted by its own strength, overconfident in the success of its accumulation of authority. And that made him vulnerable.

"I want to face Snoke."

Leia released me from her embrace, taking several steps backward as I straightened to my full height. She pressed her lips together in a strange expression that only hinted at the turmoil within her thoughts. "Snoke," she said, her voice weak but thoughtful.

She understood we had a common enemy but not a common goal. I would continue to stand for my beliefs, and her for those which had failed her again and again. But inaction meant my trial, incarceration, and quite likely, death. If I lived, if I was free… there was hope. And Leia had built a Galaxy on hope. The fact that it had subsequently crumbled around her did not dissuade her. "We will face Snoke together."

Before I had a chance to inquire about her intentions, she was entering a contact into the central consul. "Commander Seastriker, when is the next window for a shuttle launch?"

There was a slight pause. "Thirty eight minutes."

"I want you to gather items thirty six A and B from storage bay four," she said. "Personally. Along with whatever personal affects you need. Meet me in the starboard docking bay in thirty minutes. As discretely as possible, of course."

Another pause. "Yes ma'am."

"Also, send Commander Dameron and Rey to this conference room."

"Yes ma'am. Anything further, General?"

Leia breathed in, deeply but slowly. "May the Force be with us."

A/N: Ok, I know it's another fairly short chapter but in my defense: 1) I wanted to get an update done this weekend and 2) it just feels right to end a chapter with a good "May the Force be with us"

As always, thank you some much for the faves, follows, views, and reviews! They are all appreciated!

Special thanks to jkleeberger22, Dirtkid123, Fern Haddock, Khalthar, Lord Revan Flame, Kondoru, Aleta Wold, PricessStarberry, MarieBloom15, jenimcsanford, and Bill Rae for the reviews! (I think I got everyone since the last time I thanked for reviews-if I missed anyone I apologize!)


	59. Chapter 58

Dameron and Rey arrived within minutes.

"We don't have much time," Leia informed them quietly.

"For what?" Dameron asked.

"To leave," Rey replied before Leia could. Her eyes focused on Leia. "To _run_ ," she continued, letting her disgust with the idea leach into her words. "That's what you want to do, isn't it?"

"I've accepted two things," the Leia said evenly. "First, there is no chance for a fair trial. Second, Ben's help represents an opportunity to put an end to Snoke."

Rey paused for a moment. "You can't risk everything because he might cooperate with you," Rey said. Her eyes flicked to me, then back to Leia. "He's a master manipulator." She turned back to me. "He can even fool himself."

My lips contorted into a sneer before I could suppress the anger. "Without me, his existence continues," I replied, my tone icy. "And that… that threatens existence itself."

"As do you," Rey countered.

"I serve the Force," I replied sharply. "Snoke serves only himself."

Rey stared at me, unable to hide the revulsion in her eyes. To her there was no distinction to be made amongst those who drew power from the darkness. Her mind had been poisoned by those who themselves could not comprehend reality as it truly was.

"Pain and suffering is not the will of the Force," she said quietly.

My cheek twitched slightly, and I stepped closer to Rey. "It is the reality of existence. We are born, we hurt, and then we die."

"I'd like to think I've done better than that," Dameron interrupted, drawing a hostile stare from both Rey and myself. "More importantly though: how are you going to stop Snoke? He trained you, he must know how to fight you."

I exhaled slowly, coming to my full height. I longed to drive my crimson blade through the monster's chest, to see that ancient flesh boil and burn. To look into those cruel eyes and see terror. To see the blood draining from his withered corpse.

But I had stood before him, sensed his overwhelming power. There had been a time when it had inspired awe; now it filled me with contempt.

"He may not die by my blade," I admitted, "But he will die."

"What about the New Republic?" Dameron asked.

"They won't be happy," Kryek surmised, "but they can't afford to make an enemy of the Resistance. They need our support to defeat the First Order."

Leia nodded. "Our ideologies are intertwined, as are our destinies. They will protest, they will threaten us, but ultimately they will remain beside us." She pulled up a display on the holoprojector. "As Commander Seastriker proposed, we'll launch a shuttle during a brief window where our starboard docking bay so that the mass of the _Emancipator_ remains between the shuttle and the New Republic ships long enough for us to get out of tractor range."

"And then what?" Dameron asked. "We go after Snoke with a _shuttle_?"

"I may be able to get a few reinforcements," Leia said, then looked at me. "That's why I need to know where we are going. I know why you haven't told anyone but now is your turn to trust us."

I regarded her quietly for a moment. Snoke's location was my bargaining chip, my leverage. To discuss it openly meant not just trusting Leia, but trusting the loyalty everyone in the room had to her.

"The Axiyom Trivestage," I said softly. "Snoke maintains an outpost within it."

"The Trivestage isn't navigable," Dameron protested.

"Not by you," I replied sharply. "But you cannot see the Universe as I do."

"A base that can only be reached by someone sensitive in the Force," Leia said in understanding.

"What is the Axiyom Trivestage?" Rey asked.

"The result of a gravity wave splintering apart a binary pulsar," Dameron answered. "Millions of cubic kilometers of stellar debris and gravimetric anomalies, all of it constantly in flux."

"And Snoke has an installation in middle of all that?" Rey asked.

"Yes," I said.

"How does it survive in there?" Dameron inquired.

"Naturally occurring spatial eddies form clear areas," I explained. "They generally dissipate within a few weeks, but the First Order uses a modified gravity well projector to sustain one indefinitely." The slightest hint of a smile flickered briefly across my face. "And that is how Snoke will meet his end."

"We destroy the generator," Rey said.

I nodded. "Within a matter of hours the Trivestage will engulf the station."

"Along with Snoke," Kryek said. "And if he attempts to escape?"

"Even with the assistance of the Force no ship larger than a Corvette can navigate the anomalies," I explained. "He will be forced to evacuate aboard a shuttle or very small capital ship." I looked at Leia. "You must ensure you have sufficient firepower available to destroy such a vessel."

Dameron frowned. "We might be able to launch a couple of X-wings along with the shuttle," he said slowly, "But prepping a full squadron would draw attention."

"How far is the Trivestage to Cardesta?" Leia asked.

Dameron's brow furrowed in confusion. "The only thing on Cardesta is the New Republic Flight Academy."

Leia nodded. "I know someone there who may be willing to help. How long would it take an X-wing to from Cardesta to reach the Trivestage."

"Under three hours," Dameron responded.

Leia seemed to consider that for a moment. "Good. Poe, prep your ship, be ready for launch on my mark. Rey, get what you need and meet us in the hangar in ten minutes. Help Joph prep a shuttle." Rey and Dameron started heading towards the door. "Be sure to arm yourselves," Leia said after them."

Kryek was also on his feet, obviously feeling out of place. As a military officer he had basic combat training, but a complex and poorly supported infiltration mission into an enemy stronghold was far beyond anything he had ever contemplated being involved with.

Leia was entering a series of commands into the computer. The holoprojector flashed to life, a star chart including the Trivestage flickering between her and me. "What would be the best rendezvous point for our reinforcements?" she asked.

I regarded the map for a moment, noticing several inaccuracies. It had been two years since I had last visited the installation, but the memories were vivid. "There," I said, pointing to an area close to the where I had last entered the Trivestage. "There may be capital ships in the region," I added.

Leia nodded and turned back to the terminal, entering several more instructions. After nearly a minute she removed a data disk and turned to Lieutenant Kryek. "Commander Welles is a good man, but what we are about to do will test his loyalty. I'm therefore assigning Lieutenant Jost Kryek as commander of the _Emancipator._ " She held at the disk towards the young officer. "Your command codes and authorizations."

Kryek stood rigid, his face draining of color and eyes widening. He was had neither the rank nor experience to command a light cruiser; giving someone like him control of a heavy capital ship was unheard of. But Leia's list of confidents was short, and she needed Seastriker and Dameron with us.

"I… don't know what to say, ma'am." His eyes flicked downward to the disk, but he did not make any move to take possession of it.

"I would not give command of the _Emancipator_ to anyone that did not have my complete trust and confidence."

"Yes ma'am," Kryek said, finally taking the disk from her.

"You will take command on my order, and keep the _Emancipator_ in a position to cover our departure," Leia instructed. "You will also find a coded transmission on that disk. Once we have made the jump to hyperspace I want it transmitted to Cardesta. After that, do whatever is necessary to keep this crew safe."

Kryek nodded but said nothing. Leia reached out and firmly grabbed his shoulder. "You can do this."

The young officer pressed his lips together, his mind a cauldron of anxiety and apprehension. He raised his head slightly, coming to attention. He swallowed noticeably. "With your permission, General, I would like to head to my station."

"Of course," Leia said gently. She glanced at her chronometer. "And in fourteen minutes, I expect you to assume your command."

"Yes, General," Kryek said, his voice solemn and resigned. He turned smartly towards the door and strode out.

The door closed behind Kryek, leaving Leia and I alone. She turned towards me and closed her eyes, the strength she had been projecting to the others melting away. "This is not what I wanted," she said quietly.

"It is what must be," I replied.

She exhaled slowly. "I have sent so many people into harm's way. But I never thought it would be you. I did what I did so that you wouldn't have to fight, yet…"

"Yet the fight," I said softly, "is part of me." I turned slowly, keeping her in my peripheral vision but not wanting to look into her eyes. "Perhaps we do have something in common. Our destinies were written in blood."

I could feel her thoughts cool noticeably, not at my presumptuousness, but out of fear that my words could be true. "They say it is better to raise strong children then repair broken men."

I cocked an eyebrow. "You are implying I am broken?"

She took a few steps to one side, putting herself back in my field of view. "If Han was afraid of anything, it was his ability to raise you. Of what would happen if he failed to give you the strength you needed."

"Strength was never an issue," I replied harshly.

" _Power_ was never an issue," Leia corrected gently. "But to be strong is much more. It is to know right from wrong, being accountable for your actions, to show compassion to others. And it was our duty to teach you that, to make you understand, to make you strong. And we were terrified of the responsibility."

"I'm sorry to have burdened you," I spat.

"You misunderstand," Leia said. "Don't you see? We were scared of ourselves. Our own faults. Our abilities."

I swallowed uncomfortably. Self-doubt was an all too familiar concept to me. Fear of failure. Fear of inadequacy. I could almost understand, but it changed nothing. Even if their fear was linked to their own inadequacies it was also inexorably tied to me. They were terrified of what I could become, and now—now that I stood on the pinnacle of darkness, endowed with immutable power—they saw every nightmare realized.

It was more than mere disappointment: I had become everything they did not want me to be. And they had abandoned me because of it. Anger welled within, my senses igniting as I held her gaze. "I am not a failure!" I yelled, my voice no longer controlled. I reached down, grabbing the chair next to me and hurling it towards the computer terminal. It impacted with a dull thud, the chair's frame taking the brunt of the impact and contorting accordingly. The terminal was dented, but the casing was too thick for the damage to be anything but cosmetic.

"I never—"

"That is what you see," I continued, anger making my words shallow and raspy, "That is all you see." I grabbed a second chair, swinging it across the table where it impacted the holoprojector. The device erupted in a satisfying shower of metal and glass, pieces of which embedded themselves in the soft covering of the opposite wall.

"I see so much more," she said pleadingly.

"Everything I do is another mistake to you," I continued, my voice quieter but still laced with vitriol. "Every action, every step." I reached down to a piece of broken glass, turning it over in my bare hand. Slowly I closed my fist, letting the jagged edges tear into the soft, white flesh of my palm. I could feel the warm blood begin to flow, and moments later it emerged from between my clenched fingers. Leia cringed visibly as she noticed, disturbed but unable to look away as a thin stream of blood began dripping on the floor.

"I _cannot_ be who you want me to be," I said, more evenly, the fresh influx of pain organizing my thoughts and tempering my rage "I am… more than what you can understand."

Leia lowered her head, her eyes glistening as she held back formative tears. "You are more than you realize," she said quietly.


	60. Chapter 59

I silently followed Leia from the conference room. The austere hallways of the _Emancipator_ seemed like an endless labyrinth as Leia led me on a circuitous path to the hangar bay. Her effort to avoid observation seemed effective, until we arrived at the hangar itself.

Standing at parade rest in the entrance was Eron Djovack.

The young captain drew himself to attention as Leia approached, showing the respect due to a superior officer despite the discomfort he felt from my presence. "General Organa."

"Captain Djovack," Leia said, her polite overtones not quite hiding her irritation. "May I ask what you are doing in my hangar bay?"

His back remained parade ground-straight. He took a short, staccato breath. "I think you know, ma'am."

Leia frowned slightly, her eyes studying the young officer with a mix of irritation and intrigue. "How did you know?" she asked, her voice low, concern seeping into her words.

If Leia was uncomfortable, Djovack was far more so. He took another breath, this one longer and more tepid. "I reviewed our astronavigation logs and noticed a discrepancy in your orbit. It did not take much analysis to determine the adjusted trajectory had the potential to shield a shuttle launch."

Leia frowned slightly. "They did say you were brilliant."

"Detail-oriented," the captain offered modestly. "But I am compelled to ask why you are facilitating the escape of an accused war criminal."

"Stand at ease," Leia instructed. Djovack complied. "Who else is familiar with your conclusions?"

"No one." His eyes flicked to me, then back to Leia. I was surprised to see a bemused grin form on the young man's lips. "If I had told Halzet, there would be squad of troops here instead of a single, unarmed officer."

"Are you implying they could stop me?" I asked. Leia glanced at me in a silent rebuke.

"Perhaps not," the Captain admitted, "but Halzet also has a fleet at his disposal. The _Vision_ alone has fourteen tractor beam projectors."

"Then why are you hear?" Leia demanded. "Why are you not on your bridge, waiting to capture us?"

Djovack's cheek twitched slightly. "Because of you." He paused to swallow uneasily. "I was brought up to stories of the Rebellion, of how I was free because of the sacrifices of so many. Including you: someone who gave up everything to do what was right, and paid a price so great that it would have destroyed almost anyone else."

Leia's focus seemed to shift slightly, her gaze no longer directed at the man before her but instead a past behind her. The men and women who had she had seen for the final time in a hangar bay not unlike this one. "A lot of people gave everything," Leia said finally, her voice husky and strained. "Far too many."

I heard the sound of a shuttle's main power coming online. Seastriker was walking up the ramp of a battered Sentinel-class shuttle, apparently having just completed his external checks.

Djovack's eyes flicked in the direction of the shuttle before he returned his attention to Leia. "I know," he replied, clearly moved by Leia's emotional reaction. "Because they believed in a cause. Because they were people of honor; people to be admired. I joined the New Republic to emulate them, to try and stand for even a fraction of what they did, to ensure that the peace they had fought for was enduring." He looked down and took a deep breath. "And that is why I'm here, to try and understand. Because the one thing you have never sacrificed is your honor, your commitment to freedom and peace."

"Sometimes we need to decide what matters most," Leia said. "I cannot condone what Ben has done—no one can—but he is not the greatest evil, nor the principal threat we face." She inhaled slowly, her lips twitching as she struggled with her emotions. Suddenly her expression hardened, and she stared directly into Djovack's eyes. "So when I have a chance to destroy that evil, and just maybe let my Son find some small measure of redemption in the process, I will not stand by."

"You're going after Snoke," the Captain replied in understanding.

"We have information about his location and its vulnerabilities."

"Such information should be shared with the New Republic."

Leia shook her head. "Our only chance is to rely on surprise and the assistance of someone intimately familiar with the First Order. Even if Halzet could be convinced to launch such an operation, you know he would never permit Ben to be part of it." Leia looked over at the shuttle. "We don't have much time," she said. "If you intend to report my actions to your commander, do so. Otherwise, permit us to pass."

The Captain's young face seemed to age before us, cheeks growing tight, mouth curling into a grimace, brow furrowing. He let out a long breath. His mind was torn between his duty to the Republic and his belief in Leia Organa.

"What are the chances of your mission succeeding?" he asked at last.

"Not very good," Leia admitted.

Djovack's lips ticked upward into the smallest of smiles. "Sounds like better odds than usual." He pressed his lips together for several seconds. "Who am I to argue with royalty?"

"Thank you," Leia said softly.

"I…" he paused, his throat muscles pulsing as he struggled to hold back a wave of emotion. Whatever he intended to say was quickly brushed aside in favor of something more generic, and obvious. "It would be best for all of us if no one knows I was here. Good luck to you all." Without another word Djovack stepped around us and headed towards a turbolift at a brisk pace.

Rey's head emerged from the shuttle's front entrance. "Two minutes!" she yelled before disappearing inside once again.

"You choose to trust him," I said disapprovingly as we walked towards the waiting ship.

"His motivations were honest," Leia insisted, "I'm sure you could tell that."

"Motives that are driven by emotion can be fickle," I countered calmly. "It would have been safer to incapacitate him."

"But not right," Leia answered, turning to me as she reached the boarding ramp. "Faith in others, belief in their ability to do good… it's something to be cherished. Never forget that."

She continued up the ramp, not waiting for a response. I inhaled deeply, fighting the urge to yell after her. He naiveté was infuriating: no one was truly good. What she saw as altruistic goals were motivations in themselves, strikingly similar to the attainment of material wealth or political power. Creatures are driven to do what brings them internal peace; the fact that those actions might help others is irrelevant. Even the most philanthropic of actions is selfish at its core.

When we arrived in the cockpit Seastriker was in the commander's seat, Rey at the co-pilot's station. As soon as she saw us she began closing the ramp.

Longshot One, Longshot Two," Dameron's voice crackled over the radio with the strikingly appropriate call sign the pilots had devised. "Do you have a mark for launch?"

"Standby," Seastriker replied, flicking another few switches. " _Emancipator,_ Longshot 1, please advise status."

" _Emancipator_ here," Kryek's voice replied, "We are radio silent except for this channel and standing by. Window opens in… thirty six seconds."

"Roger, _Emancipator._ " Seastriker flicked back over to the channel Dameron was on. "Longshot Two, launch will be in forty seconds on my mark… three, two, one… Mark!"

"Got it," Dameron replied.

"I'll be going out at full power," Seastriker informed him, "seventy percent power should keep you with us."

"Roger," Dameron acknowledged.

A few more moments elapsed, and Seastriker added repulsorlift power, bringing the large white shuttle into a low hover. The nose rotated around to face the hangar bay exit, and the Commander's hand hovered over the throttles for the vessel's twin ion engines.

Seastriker's eyes flicked rapidly between the countdown on his screen and the empty space beyond the maw of the hangar bay. The numbers reached zero and he jammed the throttles forward. The shuttle lurched forward, shuddering violently as the ageing engines struggled to deliver the massive amount of thrust suddenly demanded of them.

"Wings!" Seastriker ordered, prompting Rey to flip two switched on her panel. The wings began transitioning to the flight position, triggering a series of warnings that such an action was not advisable while still within the hangar bay.

It mattered little; the wings were barely a third of the way through their cycle when the shuttle sliced through the hangar force field, leaving the brightly illuminated hangar behind for the darkness of space. Dameron's X-Wing appeared off our right side. Seastriker began an aggressive right turn as soon as the wings locked into position, flying a course that would keep us in the shadow of the _Emancipator._

" _Vision_ just sent a transmission… its encrypted," Rey reported. "Probably Halzet's personal channel."

"I think we know what they are saying," Seastriker added dryly.

A few seconds later several warning lights flashed on the main screen, indicating a nearby vessel had powered shields and weapons. The display showed the _Vision_ trying to maneuver itself around the _Emancipator_.

"They won't risk shooting us," Leia assured us. "Just make sure to keep the _Emancipator_ is between us and the _Vision_ so they can't get a tractor lock.

"Yeah," Seastriker said quietly, his eyes on the constantly updating course that optimized our position.

The bow of the _Emancipator_ began to creep upwards, matching the _Vision's_ maneuvering as if part of an agonizingly slow ballet.

"Watch the _Seawind_ ," Leia said, pointing to the display. One of Halzet's cruisers had put its thrusters into reverse, killing its orbital velocity in an effort to quickly put distance between itself and the rest of the fleet. The maneuver would actually take the ship farther from out shuttle, but without the _Emancipator_ obstructing their targeting it presented an opportunity for a long range tractor beam capture.

"I see him," Seastriker acknowledged.

 _Seawind_ continued its deceleration, its orbit decaying as it slowed. The Mon Calamari Cruiser's shields began to glow a soft orange as they came in contact with the outermost layers of Ultan's atmosphere. Moments later the main engines burst to life, pushing the cruiser back out of the atmosphere and into open space, now more than fifty kilometers behind the _Emancipator_ and Halzet's task force.

"Time to Lightspeed?" Seastriker asked.

Rey changed the tactical display in front of her to a navigational chart, the computer plotting the edge of Ultan's gravity, the intended hyperspace vector, and the current position of the ship. "Ninety seconds."

"When you have the numbers feed them to Poe and BB-8," Seastriker instructed. "I want to make sure our calculations match."

"Got it," Rey acknowledged.

"How long until the _Seawind_ has a clear shot at us?" Leia asked.

There was no need to answer as a violent jolt slammed all of us forward.

A/N: Life always find a way to mess with fiction—but I'm still trying to keep up with the story. I apologize for the delays, but I feel quality is more important than speed!

As always, thank you so much for the support!


	61. Chapter 60

The shuttle's inertial dampeners struggled to compensate for the rapid deceleration. Despite their effort, unsecured items were thrown violently forward as the craft came to an abrupt stop. The seat restraints pressed firmly against my body, forcing me to involuntarily exhale as breath was forced from my lungs.

"Damn!" Seastriker swore, his hands tightening around the flight controls in anger before finally releasing them in frustration. "They got us by the choobies," he seethed.

Rey frowned at his reference to the male anatomy, then looked back at her screen. "They're almost three hundred kilometers away… the lock has to be weak at that range."

"We'd still burn up these old engines before we could break free," Seastriker said, frustration seeping into his voice. He looked back towards Leia, a forlorn expression taking hold of his features. "I'm sorry, General. I—"

Leia cut him off with a raised hand. "There was nothing you could have done. None of us anticipated the _Seawind_ using atmospheric breaking. I never thought Halzet would be willing to take such a risk with one of his ships."

Seastriker opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a crackling voice on the radio. "I have an idea," Dameron announced. His X-Wing began arcing further away from us, his weapons systems coming online. "Raise your shields."

Seastriker activated the deflector controls as he was told. The tactical display showed Dameron's fighter moving in the direction of the _Seawind_ , taking up a position nearly between us and the New Republic cruiser.

"Putting your fighter in the path of the beam isn't going to work," Seastriker said, assuming the other pilot intended to use his small ship as a shield, just as the _Emancipator_ had physically positioned itself between us and the rest of Halzet's fleet. "An X-wing just isn't big enough to block them."

"Not the plan," Dameron told him. "BB-8 is configuring a proton torpedo for a minimum yield high charge burst; when it detonates against your shields the casing debris will interrupt the beam and proton field should foul up their targeting scanners. You'll have a chance to break free."

"You're going to fire a torpedo at us?" Rey asked incredulously.

"Minimum yield," the X-wing pilot assured her. "Your shields will handle it."

"Wouldn't detonating the torpedo anywhere along the tractor beam accomplish what we need?" Leia asked.

"In a perfect Galaxy," Dameron agreed. "But unfortunately for you I'm not a Jedi, and BB-8 says it will take him at least three minutes to calculate the exact intercept angle. The only way to be sure the torpedo detonates at the right location and time is for it to hit something that the tractor beam is already latched on to."

Leia looked at Seastriker, who nodded. "It makes sense. More sense than most things he says."

"How long before they could reacquire a tractor lock?" Rey asked.

"Depends on the operator," Dameron postulated. "The computer won't be able to deal with the interference on its own, but there are methods to reacquire lock. A good tractor officer might be able to do so fairly quickly."

"Then the operator must be dealt with," I said quietly.

Leia glared at me, a mix of frustration and disappointment welling within at my suggestion. "I will not take hostile action against an ally."

"An ally," I said coolly, "that is currently holding you in a tractor beam."

"Despite the situation," she said firmly," the New Republic is not our enemy."

"You give far too much deference to ones that use the threat of force to bully you into cooperation."

"I would have thought you'd approve of that," Rey interjected derisively.

I frowned. "There are many sound strategies I would not tolerate an ally employing."

"If we are going to do this," Dameron's said over the radio, "sooner is better."

Seastriker looked over his shoulder towards Leia. "I hate to say it, but Kylo is right. We need every bit of help we can get."

Leia took a slow, deep breath. "No one will be hurt?"

"They should not be permanently injured," I replied. The operator's life meant nothing to me, but it would be far easier to fog his mind than to try and eliminate him across such a distance. Furthermore, a mysterious incapacitation would likely lead to more confusion than a quick death, delaying his replacement by an able bodied officer and giving us more time.

Leia took a deep breath. "You can guarantee their safety?"

"There are no guarantees," I reminded her harshly. I had not attempted to manipulate a mind across such a distance, and it was possible my efforts would result in injuries I could not predict. It was also possible they would be ineffective. "I will not intentionally do any permanent damage."

Leia briefly pursed her lips. "Alright." She clicked the comm on. "We're counting on you Poe. Give us a countdown when you are ready."

I exhaled slightly, closing my eyes and letting my mind flow towards the _Seawind,_ trying to isolate the person responsible for overseeing the operation of the tractor beams. A search for a single mind amongst thousands. I could feel their thoughts, their fears, and in some cases their confliction. Far from a unified crew with a single purpose, the many of the men and women of the _Seawind_ were uncertain. Perhaps they resented the risk they had been put in during the aero-braking maneuver. Perhaps they, like Djovack, held a belief that Leia would not take an action without cause. Perhaps—

"Three," Dameron's distorted voice interrupted via the radio. "Two. One. Launch."

My closed eyelids did remarkably little to temper the brilliant blue glow of the approaching torpedo, but I forced my thoughts away from the approaching warhead and towards the cruiser, still frenziedly searching for the mind I needed.

Ironically, the torpedo itself gave me what I desired. I could sense the surprise and confusion on the bridge as the officers and crew realized that our escort fighter had fired on us. A handful of stunned minds amongst thousands, and suddenly I knew where to focus my efforts. Within moments I discovered which bridge officer was responsible for the tractor beam. I reached out, feeling his thoughts... the man was strained both by the challenge of maintaining a lock at such a distance and the importance of his work. I could feel his hands move, manipulating the controls before him with the touch of an artist. The torpedo was a distraction, and despite his curiosity he tried to force it from his mind.

And then there was darkness. My right hand curled into a loose fist as I slowly strangled his conscious thoughts. His focus and his anxiety faded away. An ironclad sense of purpose disintegrated in uncertainty like a rock turned to dust. What he had been doing became inconsequential.

Even at minimum yield, the torpedo's impact felt cataclysmic. The brilliant flash of the detonation seared through my eyelids, a painful blue haze that tore at my senses. Metal groaned as the remnants of the shockwave pressed against the hull, and a painfully load roar permeated every corner of the cockpit.

The electromagnetic energy released by the warhead, combined with the physical debris the torpedo casing had left behind, confused the tractor beam sensors as expected. With the tractor beam operator incapacitated the lock fell away.

I opened my eyes and relaxed slightly, convinced that I had succeeded. The man would most likely survive: he had been breathing on his own when I had withdrawn from his thoughts. More importantly, it would take minutes, if not hours, for him to resume his duties. By the time the rest of the bridge officers discovered his level of incapacitation and replaced him, we would be far beyond the reach of their tractor beams.

The acrid smell of burned flesh began to soak through the already stale and unpleasant air. I saw smoke rising from Seastriker's panel; the detonation had caused several systems to overload. Despite the electricity arcing across the controls Seastriker had kept his hands firmly in place, pushing aside the pain in under to maintain control of the shuttle.

"Maximum thrust," Seastriker called out as he commanded an aggressive right spiral that would once again move the shuttle into the shadow of the _Emancipator. Seawind_ had lost its grasp on us, but relying on the original strategy was our best hope to keep the rest of Halzet's fleet at bay.

Still, as I had informed Leia only moments before, there are no guarantees in the universe.

Seastriker was in agony, the tortured flesh on his hands scarred and red, some of it fused to the controls by intense heat. He tried to push the pain aside, but it would inevitably overwhelm him. I reached forward, placing my right hand on his right shoulder. Within moments I could feel his anguish, a searing torment he could barely comprehend. To me, it was familiar as the breaths I took. I took it from him, easing his suffering while letting his pain wash across me.

"Thirty seconds," Seastriker announced, his voice noticeably more relaxed than before.

"We are out of _Seawind's_ tractor range," Rey said quietly. She glanced back at Leia. "Let's hope you are right about them being allys."

"If they wanted to destroy us," Leia said, "They would have already."

"They already destroyed you," I said, my words quiet but wrapped in rage, frustration, and… sorrow. It was a reaction brought on by memories I had thought buried, emotions that had been repressed for so long I no longer believed myself capable of them. My body trembled almost imperceptibly as an icy chill ran through every nerve. In four words I had admitted what I remembered.

I had been barely more than a child, forced to watch the only person in the Galaxy who had even the most fleeting interest in my well-being torn apart by the uninhibited political ambitions of others. Reality is a cruel teacher, but the lesson had helped define me. The scars had evidently been seared into my consciousness as well.

Leia shifted uncomfortably, unable to fully process the torrent of emotions that suddenly occupied the space between us. Rey seemed to cringe, unsure what had triggered such an unusual and visceral reaction to me.

"Three," Seastriker said quietly, completely unaware of the unintended admission I had just made. With a cringe of pain he pulled his right hand away from the throttle and wrapped it around the hyperspace lever. "Two… One…"

A/N: As always, thank you for the views, follows, favorites, and especially reviews. And a very special thanks to Dirtkid123, Aleta Wolff, Bill Rae, jkleeberger22, Sky Daybreak, Earial13, and Alyas-Anne who have been kind enough to review since the last time I had a chance to give a shout out to my awesome supporters!


	62. Chapter 61

He could feel a strange, cold sensation embrace him only moments after the message began. The hologram had the appearance of Leia Organa, but the image was almost a shell of his mother. Age and responsibility had caused the lines on her face to grow deeper over the years, the fatigue of her unending work and the weight of her unrelenting responsibilities taking a physical toll. But her strength and vigor had always shown through, her eyes had always been full of life and determination.

Now they were cold, sad, and nervous.

His hands began quiver as he listened to her shaky voice. As the message continued his skin grew cold and clammy, an icy sweat drenching his clothes. His breath became short and raspy.

As the recording concluded, he found himself struggling to suppress the bile rising in his chest, but it was a futile effort. The vomit burned his throat and mouth, leaving a sour, acidic taste in its wake. He ignored the remnants dripping from the corner of his mouth, his thoughts too fixated on the words he had just heard.

His veins ran with blood of a murderer. A madman. The same blood that had been responsible for burning entire worlds. His soul was laced with the legacy of evil.

His stomach violently contracted and another surge of vomit erupted from his mouth. His throat felt raw, and the putrid smell began to fill his nostrils. He placed his palms on the chair's armrests, pushing himself unsteadily upward. His entire body was shivering, his clothes, now drenched in his own perspiration, exacerbated the chills emanating from within his chest.

Ben Solo's trembling legs were unable to support his weight, and he collapsed to the floor as soon as he released his grip on the chair. He came to rest on his side, unfocused eyes turned towards the door of the single-room cabin. He remained still, one arm limply and painfully pinned under his chest and his right knee throbbing from the force of the impact.

The pain didn't matter; in fact, we welcomed it. It was a diversion from the reality he faced. Something his thoughts could cling to as a sense of despondency deeper than any he had ever known tore through his mind.

Despite the distraction there was no physical agony that could keep his thoughts at bay forever. Nothing shy of death would deny his psyche's inexorable march back to that devastating truth: He was the grandson of a killer—a butcher. Perhaps the most fearsome man the Galaxy had ever known.

And they had kept it from him. Those that preached honesty and compassion had hidden him the most basic understanding of who he was.

Ben felt a flash of anger ignite within him. They hadn't the right to deny him the truth! The coldness began to dissipate as a fire stoked by rage took hold within. Skywalker—his mentor, his guide, the man in which he had placed his trust—was the son of a monster. His own mother-the woman who embodied hope, freedom, and good—was herself cast from a mold forged by darkness.

And his father… Was that why his father had spent so much time away, because he worried that one day his son would no longer be able to control the legacy that burned within him? Did he fear his own son was destined to become the embodiment of an evil had had fought so hard against?

The despondency warped to malice as his mind began racing. He sat upright on the floor, his fury finally giving him the motivation to move. Within his thoughts a cruel web of experiences replayed themselves, a terrifying pattern emerging as understanding began to coalesce. The darkness he had sensed, the terrifying and unwanted embrace he had felt for years… was part of him.

The cruel malevolence that he had feared had been festering in his heart, torturing him. Tearing him apart from within. Rather than help, they had chosen to preserve a secret.

The ageing wooden door creaked open, and Ben turned slowly to face the man who had entered. A man he had trusted, a man he had followed. A man who had lied to him for every moment of his life.

Luke Skywalker remained silent for several seconds, trying to conceal his own discomfort as he studied the broken young man before him. Ben's face was ashen and impassive, but his eyes which burned with a barely contained rage. The Jedi had seen hints of the darkness before within his student, but never had it manifested in such a way. Fear, anger, and frustration had always plagued the young Padawan, but never before had he regarded his master with such unbridled hate.

Ben's breathing slackened, and he climbed slowly to his feet. The dark haired man wiped a slender forearm across his lips, cleaning of remnants of his initial shock as he turned to face Skywalker. His facial muscles tensed noticeably, his eyes narrowing. "You deceived me," he hissed, his words dripping with contempt.

The Jedi swallowed noticeably. His student—his nephew-stood poised a precipice of Skywalker's own creation, a hateful abyss that would not only splinter his family but potentially disrupt the fragile balance of the Force itself.

Skywalker had known Ben's power had the potential to exceed his own with proper training. Still, he had been confident he could instill the knowledge and values Ben would need to avoid the allure of the Darkness. Skywalker was the first of the new Jedi, and it was his _obligation_ to teach his nephew what he needed to know, to help him find the strength to stand against evil when it tried to seduce him.

But evil was insidious. For all Skywalker had taught Ben the Jedi had resolutely hidden the one piece of knowledge that now threatened to destroy everything they had done.

"Blood should never define what we are," the Jedi Master said at last, his voice quiet and contemplative. "We—your parents and I—felt an obligation to ensure that the past would not influence what you could become. That you deserved to be free of the burden we have all carried. So we tried to hide it, tried to protect you from a complex and painful reality."

"Who gave you that right?" Ben demanded, his voice coarse and uneven, his muscles twitching with rage.

Skywalker inhaled deeply, then slowly let out the breath. Only by centering himself, by maintaining his own calm, could he hope to help Ben. "We did what we thought was best. But that is no excuse." The Jedi Master pursed his lips briefly. "We wanted to help you, to do what was right. But we were wrong. We failed. No matter how noble our intentions, how sensible our purpose, all that matters is we hurt you."

" _There is no ignorance, there is knowledge_ ," Ben replied. It was a quote from the Jedi Code. At the core of everything Skywalker had taught him. "How can one teach dedication to those ideals well wallowing in deceit?"

"I may have misled you," Skywalker admitted, "but I never lied to you." Skywalker pressed his lips firmly together. "Ben Kenobi told me Darth Vader had killed my father. That your grandfather ceased to exist because of Vader. He omitted that what was once Anakin Skywalker _became_ Darth Vader."

"You intentionally denied me the truth. Don't try to justify your deception with Kenobi's lies," Ben spat.

"It is not justification," the Jedi replied calmly. "Merely, I understand what you are going through more than you might realize."

"YOU UNDERSTAND NOTHING!" Ben snapped. "Kenobi was a man. You are my family. You… my father…"-his voice began to falter, a sense of sadness permeating the resentment—"my mother… lied to me. For my entire life."

Skywalker winced slightly, almost imperceptibly. Anger fed by despair was particularly virulent, a toxic mixture that could easily lead to a desire for revenge. Or worse. "You trusted us, and we failed you."

"No," Ben said, his voice suddenly quiet, cold and laced with malice. It was no longer filled with untempered rage; instead Ben spoke with a calm yet malevolent tone Skywalker had never heard from his nephew. It gave him chills. "I trusted you. And you betrayed me."

"Never," Skywalker assured him.

"Then what?" the younger man demanded. "You taught me to believe in you, to follow you!" The uncontrolled anger was back, which Skywalker found oddly relieving. The vicious but composed words had shaken him, suggesting that Ben had found an emotional respite somewhere in the Darkness. "But the whole time you were keeping a secret, a secret about my own history, my own blood. What do you call _that_?"

The Jedi paused for effect. "Love." Skywalker reached out, putting his hand on the taller man's shoulder. "The love of a mother who wanted to erase everything that could cause you pain."

A/N: After reading Bloodline I always wondered how Ben's discovery of the truth behind Darth Vader would have played out. The revelation must have been met with shock, anger, sadness, fear, and certainly fractured relationships that had, till then, kept Ben focused on the Light. Thus, it was something I wanted to go back and explore a bit more! I hope you all enjoyed.

As always, thank you for the follows, faves, views, and especially the reviews!


	63. Chapter 62

A lightsaber cuts through flesh with no resistance. It is an instrument of its user, bound to the one who wields it through a bond that has nothing to do with the grip. Yet there is no sensation of texture; the blade passes through skin, muscle, and fat without effort.

A knife, in contrast, provides a tactile sensation the fires the senses and invigorates the mind. Every tendon, every stringy piece of sinew.

That would be the only pleasure I could derive from Anaceba meat. With several more hours before we arrived at the Trivestage, Leia had used the vessel's convection oven to prepare an alternative to ration packs. The meat was a gift from now-Governor Hahmes, leading me to wonder how appreciative he truly was of the Resistance efforts to protect his people.

Leia swallowed a piece of the meat with obvious difficulty. "Hahmes told me it was a delicacy that the people of Ultan have been raising for more than twenty generations."

"Then their efforts have been in vain," I replied, drawing a snort-laugh from Seastriker and a slight smile from Rey.

"We should be respectful of other culture's tastes and tradition," Leia admonished gently. She looked at the table and smiled slightly before pushing her plate away. "There may be some exceptions." She reached to the cabinet behind her and removed several ration packs. The cold, premade meals were filled with nutrients but had no discernable flavor. The general consensus of the group was that was an improvement.

The uneven hum of the shuttle's hyperdrive suggested it was being pushed beyond its normal limits. The ageing hull creaked slightly, and the occasional flickering of internal lights provided additional evidence that the old shuttle was struggling to maintain its speed. Somewhere a few kilometers away Dameron's X-wing was on a parallel course, likely matching our velcoity with ease.

"So how do we do this?" Seastriker asked, looking up from his ration pack. "Disable the gravity well projector?"

"It is unlikely my command codes will still be accepted," I replied. "A physical shutdown will be required."

"You want us to sneak up to a First Order base, land, infiltrate the engineering levels, and somehow make it back out?" Seastriker's voice held some levity, but it was a cover for his frustration and skepticism.

"General Organa brought down the second Death Star by infiltrating an Imperial installation," Rey said.

"With the help of commandos and the local population," Seastriker pointed out.

"Han, Chewie, and Finn rescued me from Starkiller Base."

"And not all of them made it out," Seastriker countered. He seemed to regret the statement as soon as it was made.

To Leia, Han's death was a cataclysm. She had already lost her husband and son, but she had held out hope that one day they would both return. But my blade had swiftly eliminated that future. And though she might be willing to forgive, it was not something she could forgive. The memory of her husband, the knowledge of how he had died, burned within her.

Rey's view was less nuanced: I was the man who had killed her mentor. Our forced cooperation had moderated her antipathy towards me, but it was easily revived. No action I took could erase the blood that stained my hands. No words I spoke could erase the memories seared into her mind.

Memories that we now shared.

I closed my eyes. Memories that would haunt us both.

I had stood before him, the embodiment of the very fears that had kept him distant. Infused with malice and hatred, strengthened by the unrelenting pain within yet still suffering from its indomitable wrath.

But for once he would not stay away. I had become what he dreaded most, but he refused to run. And as my blade cut through him I saw his fear: not of the abyss before him, but of the pain that lay ahead for me. Of the life I was destined to lead.

But that was the price of consequence. There is nothing in this Galaxy that comes without a cost, purpose least of all.

To endure is to suffer. _To matter is to sacrifice._

I tried to deny my feelings, but in truth I had chosen to bury them. I entombed the regret and remorse within an unassailable belief in destiny. I had compelled myself to see Solo's death as an essential part of my development and a decisive affirmation of what I had become.

But had his death truly made me stronger?

In truth, it should not have mattered at all. His life was _meaningless_. He was weak and scarred, a weakness he might have encumbered me with had he possessed the fortitude to face me sooner. His final thoughts could not be construed as redemption: nothing he could do would make up for a lifetime of failure.

So why could I not move on? Why did thoughts of this miserable, inconsequential non-entity cause a frigid inferno to erupt from the depths of my soul? Was this simply the price of destiny, or was the inexorable sense of regret boiling within me recognition of something else?

I could feel the doubt emerging again, breaking down everything I was, everything I could ever be. Indecision that fuels a putrid and insidious self-loathing, buoyed by hints of the light seeping in like a necrotic disease.

My lower lip trembled as emotions and memories fed insecurities and doubt. My breathing was becoming unsteady, my pulse accelerating. I felt Leia's hand touch mine and opened my eyes. She had seen the indecision, the suffering. The _weakness._ They all had.

"It's ok," Leia said gently. "Love, sadness, even regret. There are a part of us all. To fight them is to destroy part of yourself."

I felt my muscle tense, revulsion at my own inadequacies surging through my veins. _A man that cannot control his own emotions is doomed to madness._

"Perhaps there is truth in Rey's supposition," I admitted, turning almost imperceptibly towards her. "There are still parts of me that cannot condone what I have done, that cannot exist in harmony with what I am." My eyes shifted to Leia, my expression hardening. "And if allowed to fester they would corrode me from within. Whatever does not serve my purpose shall cease to exist."

"That's not strength," Rey said. "It's cowardice. You don't want to face what you've done through the eyes of the man you used to be. So you choose to run from it."

The anger cut through my muddled feelings like a spear, a cascade of vitriol and hate settled across my thoughts as the rage built within. No, I was no coward. I had sacrificed too much to be a coward. I endured too much pain, shed too much blood to be a coward.

"The man I used to be was powerless and weak," I snarled. "So I chose to destroy him."

Leia leaned forward. "But you haven't yet. I see the face of my son when I look at you. And I feel his suffering." She swallowed. "It's never too late."

I looked away from her and interlocked my fingers, trying to hide the trembling. I could feel the Light, its merciless pull intensifying, its caustic tendrils threatening everything I had worked for. Since when had it become so excruciating?

"It took me too long to see the truth," Leia explained gently. "That governments and rebellions meant nothing next to my son. I've spent far too much time wondering what I could have done, but I have to believe there is always a chance to make it right." Her voice trembled, thick with emotion. "Whatever it takes. Anything."

 _Will you help me?_

 _Yes, Anything._

I shivered as the memory ran through my mind. I looked back at Leia, her pleading eyes a mirror of his.

To go home… why would I desire to return to that cauldron of moral turpitude? Love and family were not justifications, they were concepts fabricated by those too weak to achieve true progress. The feeble could cling to them, rationalizing their existence that would otherwise be without meaning. Even Leia herself had chosen to place her work to build a new government ahead of her family.

Yet sometimes they seemed so alluring…

I turned abruptly to face the bulkhead and delivered a powerful blow with my right hand. I felt the shock as my fist made contact, heard the distinct and agonizing snap as one of my fingers fractured from the force of the impact.

The pain radiated outward, a searing agony that engulfed my arm and then spread through my body. I relished it. The one true constant, my only true companion. My breathing steadied as the uncertainty faded back into the fire.

Leia's jaw had dropped open, her twisted expression a mix of surprise, horror, and sadness. I stared at her, a malevolent expression crossing my features as I finally pushed the light from my mind. "In pain there is meaning," I said, my voice cold and clinical. I raised my hand, blood slowly flowing from the lacerated skin on my knuckles. "You can either fear it, or embrace it. For now, my purpose coincides with yours. Do not presume that you know what comes next."

Leia turned and left, unable to face Darkness that manifested within me.

And despite the cold embrace of the Dark Side now flowing through my soul, I found myself starring after her.

A/N:

Every time I think "I can't possibly re-write a chapter more" I find a way to. Maybe I'm suffering a bit from Kylo's indecision-I'll go punch a wall next time I get writers block.

As always, thank you for taking the time to read, and big thank you those of you the face, follow, and review. I hope you enjoyed!


	64. Chapter 63

The molten kaleidoscope of hyperspace cast an ever changing array of color and shadow across the cockpit. Leia sat quietly in the observation chair behind the copilot station, her eyes fixed on the varying hues as they hurled past. She was slumped to one side, resting against the bulkhead.

My presence had not yet been noticed, and for a moment I reconsidered what I was about to do. Leia certainly felt my presence in the Force, but the act of walking a few meters from the cargo bay to the cockpit was all but imperceptible to someone lacking formal training. The sound of the timeworn engines struggling to maintain speed had concealed my footsteps.

All I needed to do was leave. She was weak, broken. Unworthy of my time. But my thoughts were intractably drawn back to her.

I had already dismissed her ability to comprehend my destiny. Her beliefs prevented her from seeing the liberty that she held so dear was infusing the cosmos with a toxic chaos. She fought against order and stability, so blinded by her ideas that she could not see how the flames of individuality, stoked by the reprehensible ambitions of man and alien, threatened to engulf the Galaxy.

And I alone stood in the face of anarchy, the only one with the power to stop the inferno.

I flexed my injured hand again, pain emanating from my fractured finger. No, she could not understand my purpose. But perhaps she could grasp my choices.

I took another step forward and, my reflection appearing beside hers in the curved glass of the starboard windshield. She looked up slightly, her eyes focusing on the distorted image of me in the transparisteel.

"I'm surprised to see you," she said in a soft, raspy voice.

"I cannot refuse what my destiny demands," I said quietly. "I cannot pretend to be something I am not to placate your fragile emotions. But…" I swallowed, still unsure how to describe feelings I had pushed aside for so long.

Leia turned to face me, the dull glisten of partially dried tears on her cheeks. Her eyes were tired, but the light within continued to glow.

Perhaps I had been wrong: she was foolish and misguided, but not weak. Her commitment to foolish ideals obscured her true strength. She had dedicated her life to nonsense, but done so without hesitation or equivocation. She had endured hardships that would break lesser beings. Watched as friends and family were destroyed by the fire.

"My life cannot be dictated by your beliefs," I explained. "The blood on my hands, the fire in my heart… none of it will ever make sense to you. And perhaps we both must accept that. We see truth through different prisms."

I paused for a moment, waiting for her to interject. When she did not, I continued. "The corruption of the Empire led you to the Rebellion. Led you to fight against central authority long after the Emperor was gone. You feared the consolidation of power, because you were terrified of another despotic ruler: and Emperor in all but name."

"No person has the right to rule another without restriction," Leia said.

"Such a government lacks decisiveness. There is no single, sensible voice to prevent a descent into chaos. Instead the ignorant and irrational bicker and fight, eager to claim resources and ideological victories for themselves with no regard to the greater good."

"Sometimes that is the price of rejecting the chains that bind us," Leia said. "Chaos is the result of refusing to accept the will of others. To let us be defined by who we are."

"And that was the irony," I replied coolly. "That you would be brought down by the very form of government she had fought to create and maintain. Thousands of squabbling politicians eager to disavow you with no regard for the past nor the future. The weak buried the strong, because there was no one to stop them."

Leia's skin tightened a bit. "It must have been—"

"I saw a _Galaxy_ turn its back on you," I interrupted. "Not because of corruption or incompetence, but because of the blood that runs in your veins. In _our_ veins." I turned to look out the front windshield. "Oppression is not unique to an Empire."

"Freedom of choice is at the core of who we are," Leia said, coming to her feet. "My voice was not the only one that mattered. And I would not want it any other way."

"So you condemn a Galaxy to leadership by the ignorant?"

"Only a tyrant seeks to convince the people they cannot govern themselves," Leia said.

I turned back to her. "How can you be so blinded by your ideals? The freedom you crave leads to destruction." My body twitched as surge of anger ran through me. "War… poverty… hunger… these are the result of the choices they make, the choices _you let them make._ " I clenched my jaw, the blood in my veins flowing with renewed vigor as memories flooded back. "You seek to protect that which has taken everything from you," I continued, my voice rising in intensity. "You sacrificed everything for those who engender chaos: your position, your respect, your-" I stopped suddenly as I found the vitriol fueling my tirade suddenly cooled by a sense of despair. I swallowed involuntary as I struggled to overcome the sudden tension in my throat. "Your son."

Leia frowned and her gaze dropped to the floor. "I will not apologize for a belief in freedom," she said slowly, deliberately. "But letting that commitment hurt you: that is unforgiveable."

"Perhaps it helped me understand my own destiny," I suggested. "The ideals you strive for are no less insidious than the Darkness, the dedication with which you pursue them no less dogged than my own. The futility of your actions in no way diminishes your tenacity."

Leia chuckled softly. "I guess that's the closest thing to a compliment I'm going to get from you."

My expression hardened. "You feel you deserve more?"

"No," she admitted. "But I can hope." She stepped closer to me, reaching out and grasping my right wrist with a firm squeeze. I twitched slightly, fighting the ingrained urge to recoil. "So long as I have breath," she continued, "I can hope."

My eyes darted unsteadily between her face and where she held me. "Hope is a cancer. A euphemism for the _audacity_ to fight order. How many billions have died because of _your_ hope?"

"That is not fair," Leia said, a distinct edge to her voice.

I snorted and broke away from her, taking several steps towards the far side of the cockpit and focusing my gaze out the window. "Reality is not required to be fair. I accepted my reality long ago. I was an orphan—not to war or disease, but to fear and hope. One parent afraid of what I could become, the other too concerned with building a false utopia to see what I was." I turned back to her, my eyes narrowing. "We all have our motivations. Do not pretend that yours are somehow purer than mine because they are bathed in platitudes."

"Your right; we all have our motivations. But some of us are driven by them." To my surprise, Leia smiled. Not so much an expression of amusement, but understanding. "We have that in common. We pursue our goals with unwavering dedication. Our beliefs so firm—our sense of purpose so resolute—they blind us to the true effect of our decisions. Whether it is the blood of a father or the tears of a child."

I felt a chill settle across me as I considered her remarks. Her comparison was tenuous, built on assumptions she was not qualified to make about things she could not understand. But that alone did not make it wrong. Had the flames of passion obscured the truth? Had my zealous pursuit of order obstructed my view of a greater picture?

The Galaxy had a cancer, a hideous disease that metastasized under the guise of liberty. There was no reasoning with it, no cure. The malignancy had to be removed.

"We have made sacrifices we find unsettling," I agreed. The point was impossible to argue. "But there are costs that must be paid, and they do not become unnecessary simply because they must be paid in blood."

A/N: Hope you enjoy! More coming soon!

As always, thank you for the faves, follows, views, and especially reviews!


	65. Chapter 64

Ben Solo reclined on the soft leather couch, his eyes staring blankly at the towering skyline. The apartment was modest by Hosnian Prime standards, but resplendent compared to his recent accommodations.

But there was no comfort that could calm the racing thoughts in his head nor the searing pain in his heart. He had arrived on Hosnian Prime only a few days after Leia's formal resignation from the Senate. Her return to private life had done little to calm the attacks against her. Former political rivals savored the opportunity to get even, while former allies quickly distanced themselves from a woman whose name had once been synonymous with the Alliance to Restore the Republic.

Those that had stood by her were now being forced to accept the consequences of their loyalty. Gial Ackbar's once unimpeachable standing was under attack for statements the retired Admiral made supporting Leia. Rumors were circulating the opponents of Senator Varish Vicly were moving to force a recall election after the Loneran refused to call for Leia's dismissal from the Senate. Wedge Antilles had been reassigned to a senior logistics position, a promotion to General not hiding the fact he was being deliberately removed from a combat command position. His father's already checkered reputation was being regularly attacked, some even saying that concealing what he knew about Leia's parentage amounted to treason.

Of course, Leia's resignation was not a retirement. Though she had not told Ben of her plans, her son had begun to surmise her intentions. Leia believed in threats that could undermine the stability of the New Republic, threats that tear apart the peace she had fought for. Most considered her warnings either misguided or a deliberate attempt to distract from her personal problems.

Despite that narrative, Leia's closest allies were not dissuaded. She had been meeting with them over the past two weeks, outlining plans to defend the New Republic against dangers it refused to acknowledge.

Ben rolled over, burying his face in a pillow. When would she stop trying to save a government that had failed her? For the people that despised her because of her relationship to a man she barely knew?

What _right_ did they have? Ben was a victim of her deception, denied the truth of his own existence in some misguided ploy to protect him. But the others-the ones that rained down hate and vitriol—they were the beneficiaries of her effort.

Even now a crowd was protesting around the tower's main entrance. On the four hundred a thirty seventh level the sound of their words were inaudible, but Ben could sense their presence. Most likely they were calling for the same thing as the last several protests: the former Senator's indefinite imprisonment or immediate exile in Wild Space.

Of course, the people of Hosnian Prime liked to consider themselves enlightened, eschewing execution as a barbaric form of punishment. Other worlds had no such reservations. Daily holonet reports showed massive crowds calling for Leia's execution, and in a few cases angry protestors demanded the immediate termination of Darth Vader's entire bloodline.

Condemnation of Leia was spreading through the stars like a virus, yet the freedom to express such thoughts was at the core of what Leia believed. It was belief that she had tried to ingrain in Ben since his birth.

Ben inhaled sharply through tightly clenched teeth as an ironic and infuriating thought entered his mind: she had spent more than two decades teaching him these tenants of weakness, while concurrently hiding from him the source of his strength.

The sound of the front door opening prompted Ben to raise his head. He'd been so preoccupied he had not even noticed Leia's approach. She emerged through kitchen archway moments later, a hint of uncertainty and sadness on her face. "Ben," she said softly, "do you have a moment?"

Her son pushed himself into a seated position, his brown eyes studying her expression. He could feel her thoughts-a mixture of determination, uncertainty, and sadness—boiling just below the surface. A certain unease he rarely sensed. "It's about your meetings, isn't it?"

"I forget how perceptive you are when you aren't around," she replied with a slight smile that quickly faded. "There is something out there, something that could threaten the Republic if we are not prepared."

"Yet the Senate refuses to take action," Ben said. It was not the first time Leia had told him this.

"It is short-sighted, but they feel after the bombing and Tai-Lin's assassination they must portray an image of confidence and total security."

"Not to mention the doubt _you,_ " the young man added. "It seems your reputation for candor has been called into question recently."

Leia winced slightly, unsure if Ben's words were merely an observation or a subtle attack on her for withholding his grandfather's identity from him. "Perhaps," Leia admitted, choosing to treat the comment at face value. "They can see me how they choose. But the mission is still the same: we need to find out exactly what is out there, and how to keep it from destabilizing the New Republic."

Ben's expression soured. "The New Republic can destabilize itself just fine," he said in a tone she couldn't quite place.

Leia paused for a moment. "Democracy is meant to be turbulent. Freedom of speech inevitably leads to a clash of ideals, but in time the path forward emerges."

"You place remarkable confidence in the resilience of a system that has already turned its back on you," Ben said, his voice tense. "Your downfall is only a symptom. When all are given an equal voice ideas borne of nescience pervade. Lies and falsehoods fester."

Leia swallowed. She had seen this in her son before: a cold, almost cruel resistance to her. It almost seemed petulant at times, but there was something more to it; something that scared her. "The truth emerges eventually," Leia said.

"What if everything you have created dies before it does?" Ben demanded. "The New Republic stands on a foundation of sand, and you _choose_ to allow it to be assaulted by a tide of ignorance."

"What you call an assault is a fundamental right of all beings," Leia countered, her words suddenly harsh. "All voices have the right to be heard; anything less is unacceptable."

A cloud of darkness seemed to settle across Ben's features. "You allow the rule of indigent, the foolish, the self-serving. Marginalizing anyone who can truly solve a problem. You are an example—pushed aside despite your accomplishments—but the disease has already spread. Your beloved ideals are corroding the very government you have fought for. The freedoms you hold so dear lead to injustice!"

Leia took step back, unprepared for the sudden venom in his words. She had been prepared for resistance from her son, but this was an attack on everything she stood for. "Don't turn your back on democracy because of my bad decisions," she said, almost pleadingly.

"You are blinded by what you see as fundamental rights. You can't appreciate the injustices they cause. The suffering they sustain. The weakness they allow to suppurate throughout the Galaxy."

Leia's eyes narrowed. "I will choose weakness over oppression every time."

"Then you choose foolishly," Ben snapped. His dark expression took on a hint of malice. "Only through strength can one protect others. Problems are not solved by debate but by action. And I can feel the suffering. The sadness. Across the stars they cry out for help, their words falling on deaf ears as the ambitious fight the incompetent for their own selfish means."

"That is how Palpatine's supporters thought," Leia said firmly. "That a single authority would lead to stability and safety. It led to terror and coercion and cruelty."

Ben's hostile stare continued, but he remained silent.

Leia's lips curled into a small smile. "And for all their strength, they found out they couldn't stop the people from thinking."

A/N: Another short chapter, but I wanted to get one more out while my story was still technically canon!

I also wanted to go back and look at the events that defined my characterization of Kylo's life. The fissures that formed as he struggled to reconcile the pain he felt, the suffering he saw, and the morals that his family tried to ingrain in him. There is more to "my" Kylo than simply a rebellious drive or a desire for power. Of course the Abrams/Johnson Kylo will be different, but I hope we get to see a similar type of complexity in him!

As always thank you so much for taking the time to read, for faving and following, and especially for all the wonderful reviews!


	66. Chapter 65

The shuttle had emerged from hyperspace a quarter of a lightyear from the Axiyom Trivestage, an inconsequential dot hanging in space against a hauntingly beautiful backdrop. Trillions of tons of stellar matter had twisted into ethereal tentacles that stretched out across the cosmos. They reflected the light of nearby stars as deep reds, vibrant purples, and dark blues, all varying in location and intensity as powerful gravitational fields kept them in constant motion.

Its violent origin was belied by its eccentric elegance, the shifting medley of colors and shapes still concealing a violent and sinister heart. Even at our distance the Trivestage's radiation required the use of shields, preventing Dameron from transferring to the shuttle. Of course, that did little to diminish his vocal nature.

"You want us to sneak up to a First Order base, land, infiltrate the engineering levels, and somehow make it back out?" Dameron's levity laced with skepticism came through clearly despite the marginal audio of the cargo bay comms panel.

"So your arrogance _does_ have limits," I said dryly.

"I have good days and bad days," Dameron replied.

"He has a point," Seastriker interjected from his seat at the table. "Everything First Order is armed to the teeth. We have a shuttle and an X-wing."

"The interference from the Trivestage severely limits the use of sensors," I explained. "And the Gravitational anomalies are strong enough to impact the trajectory of most weapons. It has extensive point defenses, but their effectiveness is questionable." I turned my focus to Seastriker. "Thus, despite your assertion, the base relies primarily on its location for defense."

"And once we're aboard?" Rey asked.

"There will be resistance," I said, hints of tension leaching into my voice. The possibility of combat rarely made me apprehensive, but I could not deny what lay ahead. Many of Snoke's personal guard had a sensitivity to the Force, and even those that did not were consummate warriors. They saw him as a God in everything but name, willing to sacrifice anything in the service of their master.

Regarding Snoke with awe was understandable. The creature sat at the pinnacle of power, his withered form concealing an overwhelming energy fed by vitriol, hate, and rage. It burned within him, a cruel and sinister inferno that was both awesome and terrifying to those that had seen its true potential.

"Care to tell us something we don't know?" Seastriker pressed, oblivious to the complexity of my thoughts.

Rey was far more perceptive. "Snoke," she said quietly.

I nodded. "His guards are well trained, but he is the ultimate threat. I have no intention of facing him directly, but I cannot ignore that possibility. Nor can his ability to influence across a distance be discounted. His abilities…" I trailed off, pausing to consider an appropriate description. "His powers challenge comprehension."

The radio crackled again as Dameron adjusted his mic. "Suddenly _you're_ not sounding quite so arrogant."

"Those who lack respect for the terrible magnificence of his power rarely survive for long." I frowned slightly despite knowing he could not see the expression. "You are not a stranger to the power of the Dark Side," I reminded him. "Snoke would not show as much restraint as I."

There was a moment of silence. Dameron's next words were noticeably more solemn. "You showed me nightmares could be real." And then the jocularity returned: "And if that's what you call restraint… well, you have issues. You have issues anyway, but-"

"What matters now," Leia interjected, "Is that none of us share a similar experience at the hand of Snoke."

"So we get past Snoke and his guards… then what?" Seastriker asked, shifting uneasily. The short man was used to fighting from the cockpit; a battle without his starfighter was an uncomfortable thought. "I'm guessing these generators don't just have an off switch."

"The generators use quantum plasma based power converters. Destroy them, and the system will fail."

"Destroy a quantum plasma converter and you could destabilize the entire power matrix," Dameron responded.

"If you try to do it with a blaster," Rey said, her enthusiasm bolstered by recognition of what I intended. "Lightsabers are more precise."

"I hope so," Dameron said. "A feedback loop is almost instantaneous."

"We are aware of the plans limitations," I said, making my annoyance obvious. "I am curious what you thought I was proposing? I never insinuated that the danger would be inconsequential, nor did I personally ask for your participation."

Dameron snorted. "Risk and danger don't bother me. But you're asking _me_ to trust _you_ not to blow up my friends doing something stupid. That's a little harder."

"If you doubt me, why are you here?"

"I believe you are telling the truth about stopping Snoke. But you don't value my friends' lives the way I do; you don't care about life period. You'd let them burn if it meant Snoke would burn with them."

Ironically, what he accused me of was what I wanted to believe. That I would cast aside the others in order to pursue my destiny. But I was beginning to have my own doubts. Dameron and Seastriker were meaningless, their existence of no significance. But Leia and Rey both elicited feelings that were becoming more difficult to suppress. One who had completely

"Proximity alert!" Seastriker said, using his bandaged hands to push himself up from the table. I followed him to the cockpit.

"Who is it?" Rey asked as she stepped through the hatchway.

"Working on it," Seastriker replied, scrolling quickly through sensor schematics despite his restricted dexterity. "Six craft, small…" He turned to look over his shoulder, brow furrowed in confusion. "X-Wings."

"Halzet?" Rey asked. "How could he…"

"No," Leia said reassuringly as she came up beside the younger woman. "An old friend."

"Incoming transmission," Seastriker reported.

Leia nodded gently and a voice I had not heard in many years filled the cockpit. "Phantom Squadron at your service, General."

"Wedge," Leia said, her skin pulled tight in a broad smile. "It is good to hear your voice."

"It's been far too long," Wedge Antilles replied, respect for his old friend evident in the man's voice.

"I know," Leia said, her eyes dropping briefly to the floor. "But what matters is I've always been able to count on you."

"That will never change," Antilles said firmly.

"Phantom Squadron?" Leia asked, a hint of amusement in her words.

"It seemed appropriate. A collection of volunteers on an unapproved mission."

"So it is," Leia replied. "But if we accomplish our goal today, it will be a great victory for the Resistance, the Republic… for Freedom."

"General Antilles," Dameron cut in an unusual deference in his tone, "This is Commander Poe Dameron, and I just wanted to say it is an honor to fly with you again. I don't know if you—"

"Remember the rookie that _almost_ showed me up in a simulator on Bimmisaari." Antilles finished the statement.

"I'm better now," Dameron assured him.

"Good. Because I'm assuming those power blips out there are not friendly ships."

"No," Leia confirmed. "Fortunately they are deeper in the radiation field than we are; we can barely see them but they can't detect us at all."

Antilles chuckled quietly. "Something tells me that is going to change."

I quickly lost interest in the conversation as Leia began briefing him on the plan. The additional X-wings changed little, but it did provide us with more firepower to take down Snoke's shuttle. Walking out of the cockpit I proceeded to the aft cargo compartment. Several crates were aboard, but I could feel what I was looking for. Removing the cover I saw my lightsaber and mask carefully placed on top of clean robes.

I removed my weapon, my fingers embracing it. It was cold to the touch, yet it radiated an energy that spread through my veins, a comforting warmth filling my chest. I clenched harder, my injured finger burning with pain. I closed my eyes and exhaled, letting the darkness flow through me as I tried to push my anxieties aside.

"You're worried," Rey said from behind me. "You don't know what will happen if you need to face him."

I turned slowly to face her but my gaze felt uncertain, my eyes wandering. I found myself unable to return her stare directly.

"I have no interest in your perception of thoughts," I replied. This was not discussion I wanted to have with her. Not a discussion she had the _right_ to have with me.

"You unsettled, unfocused. I can feel it."

She had pressed too far. "And what concern of yours is that?" I snarled. Though my voice was only slightly larger than usual, the ferocity of my words seemed to echo through the cargo compartment.

Rey was not phased. "You want me to stand with you, against Snoke. I need to depend on you; we all do. You mustn't let fear cloud your thoughts."

I could feel the anger welling inside, flowing through me. Her statement was all but an accusation of weakness, perhaps even of cowardice. My right hand moved instinctively, twisting my saber into a position where I could ignite it. Then, almost to my own surprised, my mouth curled into a subdued smirk. "What do you know of fear?" I asked quietly, "What has Skywalker taught you?"

Rey took a step forward. "There is no shame in being afraid, but one cannot allow fear to take root. If we allow it to define our actions it will lead to anger, then to hate."

"Then to the Dark Side," I said slowly.

"If unchecked."

I shook my head slowly. My cheek twitched as I thought back to the lessons Skywalker had taught me, how he had deliberately hidden the truth. "Fear is a strength if you understand how to embrace it," I said. "If you ignore it or run from it, you fail to see the truths that are hidden behind it. Once you commit to fear, no knowledge is too dangerous, no truth to terrifying." I looked up, my eyes finally meeting Rey's. "Those who live by the light suppress what they fear and confine it to obscurity. Generations of Jedi lies tied fear irrevocably to evil. But those of us who follow the Darkness are driven on a persistent quest for knowledge. One who see the true nature of the universe welcomes even the most chilling realities with open arms. Through fear we find knowledge, and with knowledge we acquire power."

I turned away abruptly. I had spoken the truth, yet in this rare instance even I could not find strength in my fear of Snoke. Fear had been my companion, wrapping me in its icy embrace. I had not merely embraced it: I had become it. But now it burned in my chest, an unchecked fire of apprehension threatening to tear apart what I was. It disgusted me to admit such weakness, to suggest I could suffer from such trivial notions as anxiety and trepidation. But Rey was perceptive, and my thoughts we volatile. She had already sensed the evidence and would have come to understand it on her own eventually.

"But a fear of Snoke," I said at last, "is not a source of strength. It is simply a fact of existence."

"Perhaps it is time to look elsewhere for your strength."

A/N: First chapter since The Last Jedi! Amazingly, I feel like some of the flashbacks still fit pretty well into canon.

Hope you all enjoy. As always, thank you for the faves, follows, views and especially reviews.

And Happy New Year!


	67. Chapter 66

I tensed, bracing myself against another wave of anger. The arrogance of her suggestion was remarkable. I was the embodiment of terror, a creature that found strength in pain. I had not fallen to Darkness; I had become one with it. That would not—could not—simply change.

To my surprise, the anger remained in check, boiling beneath the surface like a vicious lava. "You know that's not possible," I said quietly. "My path has been chosen."

"You were manipulated by Snoke," Rey countered firmly. "He led you astray."

I lowered my head slightly, studying the bare metal floor of the cargo bay. In part that was true. But Snoke was not the only reason for my embrace of the Dark Side. Nor did it really matter. "The nature of my choices are now immaterial. Only the actions I have taken matter."

"Darth Vader-"

"Was seduced by love," I snapped, turning abruptly back to her. "He allowed his emotions to become a weakness," I said more evenly. "I will not allow myself the same fate."

Rey looked down, a hint of sadness crossing her features. But it was fleeting, quickly replaced by that impassive determination. "You call it weakness. But in that moment he rose up; in his love he found the strength to slay his master."

"And he died for it," I protested. "He sacrificed his _destiny_ for love," I said, biting out the words with disgust. "His compassion was his undoing."

"It doesn't need to be yours," she contended.

"It will not be," I assured her darkly, brushing past her and walking back towards the stored equipment.

"It is never too late," Rey pressed.

I crouched behind the container and carefully removed my mask. I held it in my hand for a moment, my deformed reflection glinting in the silver highlights. Beneath it was a folded cloak that I took and draped over my shoulder. After several seconds that seemed like an eternity I stood and turned back to Rey. "Why is it that your beliefs are convictions, worthy of praise? Yet mine are failings that must be atoned for?"

"You know the answer," she replied quietly.

I took in a slow, shallow breath. Her implication was clear: those last remnants of the light, those infuriating specks of weakness and compassion that refused to yield, burned within me because I somehow I agreed with the morality of the Jedi. That somewhere within me I sought so-called redemption.

Perhaps she was right. Perhaps the pull of the light was not simply weakness, but a deep seated yearning. An unrelenting desire to cast aside what I had become and try to revisit what I had been. Perhaps that was the path my heart wanted me to embrace.

But it was not the path that held my destiny.

The comforts of the light were enticing for precisely the reason I had turned away from them: they denied the truth of existence. To refuse to accept pain, anger, and hate is to refuse to accept reality.

"The Jedi Texts," I said, raising my brow slightly. "You've seen them."

Rey nodded but did not answer.

"Impressive that they have survived so long. Miraculous, perhaps, when one considers the number of enemies the Jedi have made." I walked slowly across the bay as I continued. "An entire faith claiming to be based in peace and calm, but in truth, the history of the Jedi is one of strife and combat." I stopped and turned to face her. "For every problem they solved through negotiation is a solution forged by their blades."

Rey frowned. "The Jedi fought to protect others, not to impose their will on the masses."

"Interjecting in the affairs of others is an imposition of will, even when done to protect the innocent." I exhaled slowly, carefully controlling the rage that permeated my soul as memories of Skywalker and his teachings seeped into my thoughts.

"As opposed to those that would terrorize and slaughter the innocent for their own benefit?" Rey countered harshly.

"The Jedi were not above manipulation, intimidation, and even assassination when it suited their purposes." I took a step closer. "Skywalker never told you, did he?"

The girl's brow furrowed slightly. "The Jedi were not perfect. Master Skywalker never hid that from me."

"Not the failings of the Jedi," I replied quietly. "The failings of himself." My eyes bored into her. "I did not turn against Skywalker; he turned against _me_. He intended to destroy me." Rey's mouth opened slightly, taking in a quick, involuntary breath. "Don't try to deny it; you are far too perceptive. You know what I say is true. You can feel it."

"The Jedi do not take innocent life," Rey said, but the unwavering support of Skywalker seemed to waiver in her thoughts.

"He sensed the darkness in me," I explained. "Growing, strengthening." I swallowed, taking a step backwards. "To him I was _infected_ ," I spat, my words laced with vitriol. "I had become what he must despised, what he most feared." I paused for a moment, closing my eyes as I once again tempered the anger welling inside me. "His choice was tactically sound: to eliminate an enemy before they pose a threat, to cut them down when they are most vulnerable. But in making that descion he demonstrated exactly how committed the Jedi are to their own ideals.

I took several steps towards a small side window, staring out at the beautiful horror of the Trivestage. "I had already come to question his wisdom, the wisdom of all Jedi. They were afraid to explore the Force, to accept the true power it had bestowed upon them. They insisted that democracy be maintained, even when chaos it created led to pain and suffering. Even as the New Republic became a cauldron of corruption and inaction-unable to protect its own citizens-Skywalker refused to intervene." I looked back at Rey. "And when Skywalker ignited his blade, he eradicated the last bit of Jedi left within me. _He_ made them my enemy." I turned back to the window. "So I burned them."

"What happened then doesn't change how you are feeling now," Rey said.

How little she understood. I had tasted death for the first time that night, sensed the exquisite sensation of life being ended by my own hand. I had reveled in the agony and terror that permeated their thoughts as I extinguished the fragile flame of existence. I had savored the smoke, its caustic tendrils heavy with the scent of burning flesh.

How could I reconcile those electrifying experiences with the pull of my past? How could a monster that wallows in blood and feeds on misery ever seek to return to the light?

I had found strength in pain because I needed it to fulfill my purpose. I had been crafted into the tool my destiny required. "You want to see something that cannot exist. Some of us are meant to be the creature in a mask," I said, carefully controlling my voice so that it remained devoid of emotion. "Not because it is what we want, but because it is what we must be."

"So you sacrifice who you are-what defines you—because you think the Galaxy has some other plan for you?"

I turned back to her, raising an eyebrow slightly. "What does define us? Our history? Our choices? By any of those measures I am a monster."

"But what if you're wrong, if this blood stained path you cut across the stars ultimately comes to nothing?"

I felt a familiar coldness in my chest, and I shuddered slightly as the cruel embrace of doubt spread through me. I pressed my lips together in an effort to stop them from trembling. To have given everything to the darkness… My gaze dropped, my eyes suddenly feeling wet. "Then I will have failed," I replied after several seconds, the words distasteful as they crossed my tongue.

I inhaled sharply, brushing aware lingering insecurities with sheer force of will. "But for now, the path leads to Snoke and his demise. We should focus on that."

Rey hesitate for a moment. "Even if Snoke falls, you could still lose yourself."

I held her gaze for a moment, the uncertainty pressing forward again. Then I turned towards the cockpit, draping the cloak over my shoulders. "We shall see."

A/N: I figured that the pre-TFA parts of TLJ fit quite well with the story and decided to make the most of them! I also find it interesting that Kylo's views on the Jedi in this story share some parallels to Luke's views in TLJ. Wasn't intentional, but interesting!

As always, thank you for the faves, follows, views, and reviews!


	68. Chapter 67

Antilles made no secret of his reservations regarding the proposed attack. As a fighter pilot he was used to controlling his own destiny, yet he could only traverse the hostile expanse of the Trivestage with the assistance of our shuttle. Once inside they would be confined to the area of space the installation's gravity well projector had carved out, a small, protected bubble amongst the dangerous spatial and gravimetric anomalies. Such a small areas limited his pilots' ability to maneuver tactically, and he was even more uncomfortable that he would again need our guidance in order to exit the Trivestage. Antilles was no coward, but an inability to retreat did not sit well with him.

Of course, that was all inconsequential compared to the requirement to put his trust in someone who had betrayed him and his friends.

Antilles had known me for most of my life. The man had been on Chandrilla when Ben Solo was born, watched him grow up. But he was not blinded by history or compassion. He plainly saw the creature that young man had become. Everything that Leia refused to acknowledge was clear to him.

The old pilot had demanded to know why I would help them. The most obvious answer for my actions was self-preservation. I had failed the Supreme Leader, and not simply in terms of lost ships and men. The very essence of what he had seen in me had been shattered.

The fact that I turned from him and successfully escaped his grasp made his desire to eliminate me all the more intense. I was not merely a traitor, but a symbol that his control was not absolute. Evidence that for all his power, his will could be defied.

It was the most absurd of ironies. My destiny was to bring order to a fractured Galaxy, yet I stood now as a figure of opposition.

A sign of hope.

I closed my eyes, the thought ricocheting in my mind. I could state my motivations and rationalize my actions, but I could not deny that simple truth: I stood at the tip of a spear destined to wring chaos from order. Snoke's removal would not be dissimilar to Palpatine's, or to the destruction of Hosnian Prime. The chaos that results from such events rarely follows a path that can be foreseen.

I clenched my teeth unconsciously as the reality filtered through my thoughts. The long-term stability of the Galaxy demanded such sacrifices be made. I fought not only for my own survival, but because of what Snoke was. And because of what he was not. His allegiance was not to the establishment of Order but the acquisition of power.

Snoke had perverted the destiny of my Grandfather; he was a corrupt tyrant that had twisted the Darkness to his own ends rather than serving the will of the Force.

But was I any better, embedded at the heart of a Resistance founded to oppose the stability and safety that a new order could bring to the Galaxy? Were their foolish ideals any more worthy of my loyalty than Snoke's lust for power?

My lips curled downward. Was I even capable of loyalty? Had I ever truly been loyal to Snoke? Had he been using me for my power, or I had I been using him for his? Amidst the cruel manipulations and dark visions had I always known where I was going?

If we are defined by destiny, does our journey to it matter? I opened my eyes, noting that they had grown damp from the fierce internal struggle. Leia was hunched over a control panel next to Rey, and I studied them for a moment. Amidst a Galaxy of fire they clung to their ideals. In the face of death they stood stoic, secure in the knowledge that fate would judge them as much for their restraint as their deeds. That the lives they had saved meant as much as their success. Perhaps more.

They saw a Galaxy not defined by their achievements but their principles, and preserving the legacy of those beliefs meant more to them than their victory, more than _survival_.

To give up one's existence for a tangible purpose was understandable, but to do so for an ideal was madness. Time and again risks they took to preserve life compromised both their objectives and their own security, yet as the stresses of impending battle raged within them everything seemed tempered by and incontrovertible belief that they had done what was right.

And somehow, it gave them strength.

"We're ready," Leia said.

Seastriker slowly came to his feet, motioning towards the pilot's chair with a bandaged hand. "This sounds like one trip I can't fly."

I nodded. Ironically, the most experienced pilot onboard was also the only one lacking any Force sensitivity. His role while we transitioned the Trivestage would be to handle other ships systems, leaving me without distraction. Rey would observe, learning the cues that marked the route in case it became necessary for her to take over.

I sat down, entering several initial commands that would prepare us for a short Hyperspace jump. The multi-colored tendrils of the Trivestage hung a fraction of a lightyear away, its ethereal form in stark contrast to the danger it represented. It would take only seconds to traverse the space, but we would emerge to face unknown challenges.

Sensors still showed a number of vessels near its perimeter, the ionizing radiation preventing us from resolving any additional details. As we approached the Trivestage our sensors would become even less effective: we likely would be in weapons range before we positively identified the ships. Fortunately, the First Order vessels would suffer from a similar degradation of sensor performance. Of course, being unable to identify a target did not mean they would not shoot at it.

"Commander Dameron, General Antilles," Leia over the comm, "Are you ready?"

"Good to go, General," Dameron replied confidently.

"We'll match your course for the jump, then form up tight to enter the Trivestage." Antilles voice still held a hint of hesitation.

"Linking navicomputers," Seastriker reported from behind me. "Ready to jump in ten seconds."

Antilles and Dameron acknowledged, and I watched as the seconds clicked down on the jump timer. As it hit zero I moved the hyperdrive lever forward, feeling the old shuttle shudder as the hyperdrive engaged. The stars elongated, their glow intensifying as the molted glow of hyperspace began to form before the ship abruptly snapped back to realspace.

The starlines were replaced with the diffuse colors filtering through the Axiyom Trivestage, the anomaly now completely obscuring our view of the stars themselves. Amidst the fiery oranges and cool blues I could see the shadow of an arrow-shaped ship, its dark silhouette static against the swirling backdrop. Even without sensors, the vessels sheer mass made it identifiable.

"Dreadnaught dead ahead," Dameron called out.

"I have a Resurgent at six one mark two five zero," Antilles called over the radio. "Two hundred klicks. Another at Two four one mark five five, can't get a range on it."

"Far enough away we don't need to worry about him," Seastriker replied. "Power spike from the Dreadnaught," he continued, "there's a ton of interference, but I'd guess they are powering point defenses."

I closed my eyes, ignoring the distractions and letting the Force guide me. I could sense the channel ahead, a meandering path of shelter amidst a sea of fire and death. I began to adjust the shuttle's course, opening myself more to the Force as I tried to find the specific sensations that would guide us to safety.

I could feel the fabric of space around me, an enormous tapestry of unfathomable complexity, indescribable beauty, and unspeakable terror. I adjusted course again, my confidence in our route growing.

I felt a familiar chill, like any icy memory running along my spine. Cognition sparked, but it was too late.

A/N: So this chapter ended up being very different from what I planned. A lot more introspection, but it just felt right. After all, seeing the way Leia and Rey approach what could be a hopeless battle would inevitably contrast sharply with Kylo's own state of mind.

Sorry for the delays and short chapter—life never likes to cooperate—but this finally felt right to me so I wanted to get it posted.

As always, thank you for the follows, faves, views, and especially reviews!


	69. Chapter 68

The vile malevolence tore through my body like a vicious lance as every part of me burned with the fury of a thousand sons. It was an unspeakable anguish, a pain so intense and overwhelming that my mind began to collapse, my thoughts wretched apart.

I sat violently upright, then rolled to my left and collapsed to the floor, a suffocating agony running through my chest as an unseen force clamped down on me. My eyes refused to close, forcing me to watch as a trickle of blood began to dance across them. My jaw clenched so tightly I could feel my teeth straining against the bone that surrounded them.

My body continued to wither in pain, and my vision began to fade. Searing pain radiated through my skull as I was consumed by blackness, the sounds of the shuttle's cockpit fading away.

The torturous pain began to yield, allowing conscious thought to resume. As it did the darkness brightened slightly, revealing the gray outlines of structures. The skyline of a city, dark, unlit, and shrouded in ominous clouds that streamed down a heavy snow.

I reached out with the Force but felt nothing. This strange, cold world seemed to stand apart from the rest of universe, if it existed at all. The snow seemed to stick to my clothes and stubbornly refused to melt as it came in contact with my skin.

A chill ran down my spine as a realized the truth. It wasn't snow at all, but cold, gray ash. And this world was memory, intricate details of a past battle woven into a vivid and lifelike dream.

"For a time, on this world, you were master of all." The voice was distorted, but its cruel and insidious edge was unmistakable. "You burned everything that opposed you. Eradicated the will to resist. When they looked upon you, they saw only power. A raw, untempered power it was futile to oppose."

Snoke's words were grating, filled with malevolence yet laced with a hint of sinister joviality. He was surrounded by death, and even though it was only a memory, it gave him pleasure.

A dark, shadowy form stepped towards me. Tall and lean, its features indistinct but its shape humanoid. "And look what you've become," he rumbled in disgust. Despite my efforts, his grasp on my mind showed no sign of weakening. "Your failures are mounting, Kylo Ren. You may have power, but you lack strength. Your will is bent by emotions, your resolve eroded by sympathy." The dark figure leaned forward. The falling ash passed cleanly through his ethereal shape. "But now, you have fulfilled your purpose."

I swallowed involuntarily, my jaw clenching ever tighter.

"I would have settled for the girl," Snoke said, almost casually. "But you have brought me so much more. Your mother, the leader of the Resistance. The flame of hope that keeps them fighting." The projection showed no hint of emotion, but I could imagine the cruel smirk forming on his wrinkled lips.

Revulsion churned in my gut, nausea added to the pain already scorching through my body. I had indeed brought him what he sought most. What he needed to end the Resistance and clear his path to rule the Galaxy.

Because I wanted to end him.

Because I hated him.

My throat muscles contracted as much as the pain would allow.

Hate leads to suffering.

Those words had been said to me long before I understood their meaning. Later, I chose to ignore them. For millennia the Jedi had shielded themselves from the true power of the force because they feared what it could do to the person who wielded it. Or, more accurately, they feared what that person would choose to do with the strength it gave them.

The darkness was inexorably linked with a ruthless pragmatism; that could not be denied. The power and the responsibilities that came with it demanded the suspension of compassion and other trivial notions. But the Jedi believed that anyone who sought to harness the power of the darkness would not only accept suffering, but actively seek to inflict it.

The Jedi rarely tested such beliefs, insisting that probing the Dark Side was too dangerous. Like those before him, Skywalker had made the deliberate choice to live in ignorance rather than see the true nature of the Force. It was a decision I could not accept: those with the strength to endure the fury of the Darkness could channel the power it represented.

But now I was forced to consider the lingering doubts I had expended so much effort trying to bury. What if the warnings I had dismissed were rooted in something more substantive than a simple fear of the unknown? What if those who sought to harness the dark flame were destined to be consumed by fire?

Even before I had understood the Force, Snoke had been there. Teaching me to hate, slowly, deliberately sculpting my mind into what he desired. I was not naïve: I knew the creature was using me for his purpose, but I had believed that the strength he gave me would one day serve my purpose.

But what if that had been an illusion? What if everything I had done was leading not to my destiny, but to my demise?

Had Skywalker been right?

Snoke sensed the turmoil in my thoughts. "Even now, as your journey reaches its conclusion, you are a servant to your doubts. You, the grandson of Darth Vader, riddled by uncertainty, asphyxiated by your own insecurities." The creature laughed. "Which is why I could manipulate you so easily. How disappointed your grandfather would be."

A wave of anger boiled through me, but it quickly subsided as I realized Snoke had just admitted the truth. He had deceived me. He had manipulated me. He had torn apart what I once was, channeling my raw power into a weapon that would serve his whims.

For all of that, he had not stopped me from thinking.

My lips curled slightly upward despite the agony I felt. This moment was not pre-ordained, nor was this mission destined to fail. To accept that implied the Supreme Leader was both omniscient and infallible.

For all his incredible power, he was neither.

Snoke was doing what he had always done: creating the illusion of control by playing on the self-doubts he knew festered deep within my soul. He was correct that he had deceived and manipulated me, but I could now see through his carefully orchestrated charade. He would not control me.

"I… am… free of you," I said, the words firm but quiet.

Snoke chuckled darkly. "You will never be free." The dark shape extended a long, ghostly arm towards the ash-covered landscape. "Look around you: death, pain, decay. This is what defines you. This is what you are."

I had already known the truth, yet his words cut through me like a blade. I was every bit the monster Rey had accused me of being. But it was not by Snoke's design: whatever evil lived in my heart was the product of my own actions.

I had chosen my path. I had chosen to betray the principles that others valued most because it was the only way Order could be restored. I had abandoned my past and refused to look back, for those memories brought forth the one type of pain I could not draw strength from. I had accepted what was wrong because what was right lacked the strength to do what was necessary.

"I am defined by my purpose," I replied. I looked up at the dark form, returning its sightless gaze. "Not by you!"

"Believe what you will," Snoke snarled, frustration seeping into his words. It was strange to hear anything but contempt and a sense of control coming from the creature. "It changes nothing. There will be no victory for you today."

I lashed out at the creature, seeking the invisible tentacles he had plunged through my soul and grasping them. Snoke seemed startled by the ferocity of my attack, and for a moment his grasp seemed to falter. The pressure on my lungs abated and I felt the relief of oxygen flowing through my arteries.

But Snoke was formidable, vengeful, and not easily dissuaded. His fury came crashing down on my like an avalanche of magma, burning through every fiber of my being. But the sensation was momentary, and suddenly I realized I was no longer alone in my fight.

She lacked the training to manifest herself in this torturous world Snoke had created, but her presence was unmistakable. Snoke seemed to hesitate as the world he had created began to slip from his grasp. A cold wind blew, steady and strong, driving away the falling ash and tearing at the ethereal form Snoke projected. As his attention turned to this new threat, I once again attempted to tear him from my thoughts. He fought me, his grip like cold, rough tentacles scraping through my head. But I refused to yield, and he could not stop us both.

The ash covered city faded, replaced by the bland grays of the dimly lit shuttle cockpit. The agony subsided almost instantly, replaced by dull throbbing. My lungs expanded rapidly as I sucked in air, and I turned my head to look up into Rey's deep brown eyes. I had fallen to the floor and she was leaning over me, one hand on my chest.

"How-" I coughed "–How long".

"Just a few seconds," Leia said from somewhere just out of my view. I turned my head slightly, wincing as fire erupted along my spine.

"How can he do that?" Rey asked. "Enter your thoughts at will?"

A slight frown crossed my still-trembling lips. "He can do anything which I—we cannot prevent."

I leaned forward, pushing myself upright, channeling the searing pain in my joints to clear my mind.

"If he can incapacitate you at will…" Seastriker's voice trailed off.

"I was unprepared," I admitted. "I will not make that mistake again." Being prepared for Snoke and being able to repel him were two different things, but it did no good to make that distinction. We had no choice but to continue.

"What did he want?" Leia asked.

My eyes shifted slightly, focusing on nothing at all. "To make me doubt my strength."

"What was that place?" Rey inquired.

I let out a shallow breath. The darkened city had been located on Corbolan, a world of eight million. Or at least it had been. When the locals resisted a First Order mining operation, I was dispatched to quell the uprising. The protestors had numbered in the thousands, but simply eliminating them had not been sufficient.

The world needed to be taught what it meant to defy the First Order. To defy me.

An orbital bombardment devastated nearly a third of the inhabited landmass, killing hundreds of thousands. A ground operation seized any resources and equipment of value, taking what little the shattered world had left. Food production ground to a halt, and millions more would wither and starve amongst the ashen remains that had once been there home.

I looked at Rey, feeling my lower lip twitch involuntarily.I knew exactly why Snoke had chosen that memory."A reminder of what I am."

A/N: Tough chapter to write! There is a balance that is slowly shifting within Kylo, and trying to keep it in the correct spot (both to feel right and fit the story) is trickier than I ever imagined!

As always, thank you for the follows, faves, views, and especially reviews!


	70. Chapter 69

Renewed anger brings renewed strength. Hatred filled my veins, speeding my recovery from Snoke's invasive attack. Despite Leia's concern for my condition we were underway again in moments.

My eyes were closed tightly, eyelids fighting back the obtrusive white light of the cockpit as I sought to see a greater picture. As I reached out through the Force I could feel my desire for vengeance churning within, giving me clarity as I moved us towards the Axiyom Trivestage. The X-wings tucked in tightly as if riding some invisible wake. They were no longer ships to me, merely a presence that traversed an unseeable expanse alongside us. The Trivestage itself shifted slowly, and I carefully adjusted the shuttle's course to keep us nearly centered in the corridor.

Snoke's presence continued to permeate my thoughts, a cold dagger amongst the burning heat of the expanse. But he remained content to watch, making no further efforts to enter my thoughts. Perhaps he had realized my mind was not undefended, or perhaps he had simply decided to wait until I had no avenue of escape.

"Does he know what we are planning?" Rey asked from beside me. "Did you tell him?"

My lips curled downward slightly. Not only was the distraction unwelcome, the question itself was another demonstration of extraordinary naiveté. It wasn't a matter of what I'd _given_ Snoke, it was matter of what he _took_. "I did not tell him," I replied truthfully. "He _will_ suspect we intend to board the station; otherwise we would not bring a shuttle. Beyond that, I cannot say, though I believe gathering information did not appear to be his primary intention."

"He was more concerned with hurting you than getting information," Rey said with understanding.

"Gravitational eddies are increasing," Seastriker reported from behind me. "It could be the projector."

"Picking up several energy sources, but no idea what any of them are." Dameron's voice was barely recognizable through the interference.

"Be ready for anything," another voice said, too garbled to identify.

Seastriker snorted. "Normal plan then, huh?"

There statements were useless confirmation of what I already knew. After eight minutes, we were approaching the end of the corridor. Unlike their equipment, my senses were not impacted by the radiation of the Trivestage. I see aboard the First Order installation, every individual a speck of life against the brutal tapestry of the space around them. And within it all a brooding evil festered, its cruel and cunning mind filled with ambition, arrogance, and hatred.

My jaw clenched tightly and I swallowed. I opened my eyes. We had arrived.

The installation hung before us, suspended within a bubble of its own creation. Its angular grey shape was covered in running lights, but they were nothing compared to the dancing greens, blues, yellows, and reds that the Trivestage projected against its hull. Like the Trivestage itself, it was bathed in a beautiful kaleidoscope that stood in stark contrast to what was concealed within.

"We are clear," I said softly.

"They've launched fighters," Dameron said, his transmission only slightly stronger now. The gravity well that protected the installation from gravimetric anomalies did little to mitigate the sensor-scattering effects of radiation.

"I see them… at least six, but I can't get a targeting lock on any of them," another pilot said.

"Then we do this the old fashioned way," Antilles replied. "Visual targeting, lock S-foils in attack position."

"And stay close to that station," Dameron remind them. "If you get outside the space protected by the gravity well…"

I reached out with the Force, locating the First Order fighters. The pilot had been mistaken: there were nine. None were moving into a firing position on the shuttle. It was possible they were preoccupied with the X-wings, but it seemed more likely they had orders to let us land. Whatever reception Snoke had planned, he was confident in its ability to neutralize us.

Though part of me desired to face such an obvious challenge head-on, there was a better solution: enter the installation at a location he could not predict. I looked back towards Seastriker. "Can you hold us alongside the installation long enough to attach our docking tube to their hull?"

The short pilot's brow furrowed. "It's possible, but unless they have a docking port you would need-" The expression on his face subtly changed to a slight smirk. "Something to cut through the exterior bulkhead."

"That won't be a problem," Rey confirmed.

Seastriker's expression faded. "But you can only transfer one person at a time with a docking tube; and we'll be vulnerable while holding position."

"He's right," Leia said, "It would take too long. A compression cycle on the docking tube takes over a minute, and even with lightsaber cutting through the hull could be challenging."

"There sensors function no better than ours," I said. "By the time they ascertain our intentions, we'll be onboard." I pointed to the display. "Snoke knows we intend to board the station, and he intends to attack us when we do; otherwise the Tie's would be chasing us instead of the X-wings."

"Unless Snoke has some way to direct them," Rey pointed out. "Still, it make sense. We have a better chance with a docking tube than facing his welcoming party head on."

Leia pressed her lips together as she considered the option. "Very well. Joph, you'll need to stay with the shuttle."

"General," Seastriker protested, "wouldn't it be safer—"

"You're a better pilot than I am," Leia cut him off. "And there is nowhere safe in this Galaxy so long as Snoke reigns." She then favored him with a small, mischievous smile. "It's not like I haven't done this before."

Seastriker inhaled and exhaled deeply. "Of course, ma'am." With obviously reluctance he came to his feet, motioning for me to do the same. I rose from my chair and we switched places. His eyes flicked over the status displays, then he looked back at Leia. "Where to?"

Leia's eyebrows raised slightly, as if the answer was obvious. "As close to the gravity well projector as possible, I should think."

"Any idea where that is?" the pilot said, entering a series of commands into the console. "Sensors can't differentiate between the gravimetric anomalies in in the Trivestage and those being produced by the generator."

I had seen the engineering schematics of the station only once, on a display in the facilities control room. It had not concerned me at the time, so I gave it little more than a cursory glance. Still, using the Force to enhance my memory I searched for any details that might hint at the generator's location.

"The lower central pylon," I said. "The feeds for the generator went there."

"Could you be more specific?" Seastriker asked. "That pylon is eight hundred meters tall."

I closed my eyes, trying to reach out to the minds of those in the lower pylon, seeking the information we required. It would take time, but-

"Albantium," Rey interjected suddenly, drawing my attention back to the cockpit. "Gravity well generators have albantium shells in their cores, could the sensors pick it up through the interference?"

Seastriker's eyes narrowed slightly. "They might. If we're close enough." He keyed another set of commands into the console and grabbed the flight controls. "One way to be sure."

Leia's bemused look prompted Rey to explain her suggestion. "Gravity well projectors have some very valuable components. The albantium is almost worthless, but it's easier to detect than most metals and not found in much else."

My cheek twitched involuntarily. The insights of a scavenger had proven the equal to my own abilities to extract information, perhaps even greater. After all, her method would be far faster than my own and likely yield results of similar accuracy and avoided the need to invade, and potentially damage, the mind of another. If such a task could be completed via alternative means, did it suggest there might have been equally benign options for some of the other actions I had defended as necessary.

The thought fell away as I studied the lower central pylon, its dark and austere shape looming large in the forward windows. Unlike the upper levels, the utilitarian lower pylons lacked windows and had minimal exterior illumination. Still, their shape was easily determined by the traces of colored light reflecting off of them.

"Picking up albantium," Seastriker said, a mixture of surprise and relief in his voice. "There is interference, but I should be able to get us within a hundred meters."

Leia's lips formed a thin smile. "Good work, all of you. Now let's prep the docking tube." Her eyes flicked to me. "No matter what you say about their sensors, the faster we get onboard the better."

Rey and I followed her from the cockpit.

* * *

As always, thank you for the follows, views, and reviews. I appreciate all feedback, and your support means the world.

Back to the action in the next chapter!


	71. Chapter 70

The shuttle hovered meters above the dark outer hull of the installation, its docking lights obliterating the reflection of the Trivestage with beams of brilliant blue-tinged light.

Rey stared out of the small docking viewport, studying the illuminated surface carefully for a location to attach the docking tube. In order to make a seal, the tube needed to be attached to a nearly flat area slightly larger than its one meter diameter.

"Forward three, up two," Rey relayed to Seastriker. The pilot responded swiftly and precisely, bring us into alignment with the center of a three meter wide structural panel. "Hold it there," she said.

Leia pressed a sequence of controls, and with the muted whir of an electric motor the ungainly looking docking tube began to extend outward. Magnetic constrictors automatically pulled the durasteel rim against the installation's hull. Moments later a green light indicated the seal was airtight.

Leia turned to Rey. "I'll realign the gravity field to match the deck orientation of the facility once you're inside the tube. Not much I can do for the atmospheric pressure until you cut through the bulkhead."

My head snapped around abruptly towards Leia. "You intend for her to go first?"

"It makes sense," Leia said, her tone calm but graced with a firmness of command. "Only one person can go through the docking tube at a time," Leia said. "If Snoke manages to—"

"He won't," I interrupted abruptly. I had not anticipated his invasive attack, failing to take action until the relentless cruel claws of his mind were embedded in my thoughts. Tearing him free was far harder than preventing his entry. Snoke held great power, but the further he projected it the weaker he was. While he might be able to reassert his grasp if I were to stand before him, he would find my thoughts impenetrable from a distance.

"She's trying to do what is best for all of us," Rey said tersely. "Try to put your pride aside for a minute and see that."

I felt the muscles in my jaw tense. "It is not a question of bravado," I answered firmly. "I am familiar with First Order equipment. I know the enemy's tactics. I have the most combat experience."

Rey's irritated expression thawed, the slightest hint of a condescending smirk crossing her face. "As _you_ know, I can handle myself just fine."

I glared at her, making no effort to conceal the fire behind my eyes.

"I am not opposed to necessary risk," Leia said, a tight smile appearing briefly on her lips. "In fact, I'm pretty much known for taking them. But there is no point in taking chances for no reason. Rey can cut through the hull as well as you can."

"Perhaps," I hissed. I turned my malicious glare towards Leia, making no attempt to mask my displeasure but realizing further argument would only delay our efforts.

The tube sealed behind Rey after she entered, but Leia and I monitored her progress on the display circuit. She adjusted to the shift in gravity and ignited her lightsaber, slowly driving the blade into the hull plate amidst a flurry of sparks and molten metal.

Even with the docking tube doors sealed there was an audible hiss as her blade penetrate the bulkhead, the freshly cut hole allowing the air inside the tube to mix with that of the installation. Rey began to move the weapon laterally, the blue tinted blade pushing a slow-moving wave of molten metal ahead of it.

The work proceeded at an agonizingly slow pace. The thick durasteel did not yield easily despite the intensity of the lightsaber, and Rey found herself cutting only a centimeter per second. At this rate it would take nearly two minutes to carve a suitable opening, perhaps longer if she found it necessary to work around a structural component.

"She lacks the physical strength to manipulate the blade," I said quietly to Leia as I watched Rey struggle.

"Brute force wouldn't make this go any faster." She turned away from the screen and focused on me. "Your muscles wouldn't make the blade any hotter or the durasteel any softer. Strength doesn't solve all problems."

I frowned, realizing that she was trying to impress a point that went far beyond the current situation. Her naïve belief that somehow change could be brought about by gentle pressure, that morality and virtue would somehow ensure stability, safety and opportunity.

I turned away from her and wrapped my cloak tightly around my shoulders. I held my mask in both hands, studying it. Its polished alloy trim reflecting a distorted image of my own face, twisted and strange. The hard exterior had been a shield for years, its pitted visage concealing my own uncertainty from all but those that could see my thoughts.

But it was not simply a disguise to hide my own inadequacies: it was a fearsome symbol, its dark profile seared into the memory of all that saw me in combat. It meant suffering for those who opposed my will. It was an icon of death.

I carefully placed it over my head, locking the helmet into position and taking a deep breath to ensure the respirator was operating properly.

I turned back to Leia who looked at me disapprovingly. "This is what they know," I said, the smooth modulated tone devoid of emotion. "This is what _they fear_."

A wave of sorrow crossed Leia's face like a shadow, the light in her eyes dimming almost imperceptibly as she stared into the emotionless mask. After a seemingly interminable moment her gaze shifted to the monitor. Rey's pace had increased slightly, and she was nearly done with her cut.

Leia grabbed piece of equipment from a storage bin near the docking tube. "Portable field generator. It will put up a force field over the opening Rey is cutting so the shuttle can disengage the docking tube. Mount it in position so it can be activated as soon as I'm through."

I nodded and Leia handed me the device. It was a standard design, intended for patching hull ruptures too large for standard seal kit. The opening Rey was cutting certainly qualified.

The section Rey had cut free fell into the station's interior with a muffled thud and the young Jedi quickly scurried through. I immediately pulled myself into the airlock as it reset to match the pressure of the shuttle, refusing to wait for Leia's approval. I pulled the chamber closed behind me and used the internal controls to adjust the atmospheric and gravity settings to match those on the station.

The process took seconds, but it seemed like an eternity. I was trapped in the docking tube, a position of vulnerability I was not accustomed to.

At last the airlock hissed open, and I crawled through the remainder of the docking tube. Rey's cut into the hull had been sized to match her own physique, and I found myself needing to turn sideways to crawl through the opening. The result was a somewhat ungainly entrance into the chamber, with my left hand supporting my weight as the rest of my body fell to the floor.

"I see you've decided to accessorize," Rey said dryly. She offered me a hand which I refused, coming quickly to my feet without her assistance.

Ignoring the comment, I turned back to the docking port. Leia had entered and the airlock once again began the process of matching atmosphere, but I sensed time had run out. I could feel the danger before it presented itself, an unmistakable warning that tingle across my skin and churned in my gut.

I looked down the docking tube, the status lights indicating the pressure had nearly equalized. But I knew it did not matter. My right hand slowly closed into a fist, grasping an unseen control as the status display finally turned green.

As Leia attempted to push open the airlock door she found it jammed. She scanned the control panel for a problem before she realized the true cause. Her eyes narrowed, and then the space between us was split by a brilliant blast of green light. A laser bolt burned through the center of the docking tube, leaving a twisted hulk durasteel and transfiber in its wake.

A second series of blasts impacted the shuttle, striking a maneuvering jet. Despite Seastriker's effort to maintain his station the vessel rocked dramatically, tearing apart what was left of the docking tube as it did so.

Even with my helmet attenuating the sound, the roar of escaping air felt deafening. Leia remained safely ensconced in the airlock as the remaining part of the tube disintegrated, but Rey and I were now in a chamber fully exposed to the vacuum of space. A furious wind pushed me towards the hole, forcing me to use a bundle of wiring as a handhold.

I fought against the maelstrom, struggling to remove the portable field generator from its wrapping while maintaining my position. I reached out towards the opening in the hull, straining against the unyielding flow of escaping air, but found myself unable to align the generator properly.

My mask prevented breath from being drawn out of my lungs by the encroaching vacuum, but it did little to replenish the rapidly decreasing oxygen supply in my blood. My vision began to darken, my thoughts becoming more difficult to process.

I reached out again, but my strength was beginning to wane and once more I failed to position the generator. I realized I had only one option, and I had to act before my mind succumbed to the lack of oxygen. Releasing the generator into the maelstrom I let the air currents drive to towards the opening, using the Force to divert its course before it was blown into space and activated the device.

The tempest ended abruptly, the roar of escaping air replaced by the mechanical hum of the environmental system struggling to quickly replace the lost atmosphere.

I inhaled deeply, the thin air rasping through my helmet's ventilator and filling my lungs. It was not enough, not nearly enough… but it was a start. I turned my attention to Rey.

She had managed to secure herself to a triplasic conduit. She was breathing deeply, her body trying to soak in the oxygen now flowing into the chamber. Her skin had reddened noticeably from the force of the air running across it.

She had endured. A strange sensation entered my thoughts: relief. To care about another was not completely foreign to me, but I had learned to suppress such attachments.

Concern for another's well-being was largely a weakness, inducing one to make decisions that placed the survival of others above their own goals. Like compassion, it eroded the impartiality necessary to see the path destiny demanded.

In this case, it was possible my emotions were rooted in pragmatism. It _was_ true that completion of our mission would be easier together. But such situations were not uncommon to a warrior. I had seen allies fall before, knowing that their demise complicated my task. But this time the strength with which the feeling emerged was both unexpected and disturbing.

"Leia?" Rey asked between breaths.

"The airlock was sealed," I said, my own voice unsteady. The mask did little to hide the effects of oxygen deprivation. "She is aboard the shuttle."

Rey smiled weakly. "Joph can outfly any First Order pilot… even in a shuttle."

I did not share her confidence, but I would have sensed if anything had happened to Leia. For now, they were safe. Grabbing the edge of a transfer box I unsteadily pulled myself to my feet.

"The depressurization will have sounded alarms," I said, my words more steady.

Rey nodded. "Then they know where we are."

"And quite possibly our intentions," I added.

Rey's eyes widened almost imperceptibly and her lips curled downward. "The gravity well: it's the only reason for us to be in this section of the base."

I pressed my lips together, considering our options. I had expected to come into contact with the installation's crew that regularly staffed these sections, but such soldiers of the line could quickly and quietly dispatched. Our intrusion would inevitably be noticed; even if we managed to avoid detection by conventional means Snoke would eventually locate us. Rey and I were taking care to obscure our presence in the Force, but a flame can only be tempered so much. It was only a matter of time, but we would have valuable minutes to execute our attack.

But those were minutes we no longer had.

Snoke knew everything he needed to effectively deploy his most formidable warriors. We would soon face Knights, Praetorian Guards, or perhaps the Supreme Leader himself. My jaw clenched tightly as the thought of facing Snoke in combat once again seared through my mind, a cold sweat seeming to form instantly on my skin.

Rey sensed my sudden apprehension, her eyes softening with the slightest hint of concern. "Are you ok?"

I took a shallow breath before responding, my mechanically modulated words calm and even with only a hint of inflection. "I… have a bad feeling about this."

A/N: Well, every Star Wars saga needs to say that at least once! Hope you enjoyed! As always, thank you for your support, faves, follows, and especially reviews!


	72. Chapter 71

I felt a hint of amusement from Rey. "You get used to it," she responded, her eyes darting around the room. "What way to the generator?"

I twisted my lip beneath my mask. "I do not know."

Her head snapped abruptly around to face me, displeasure evident on her face and in her thoughts. "Finn knows his way around these places better than you do."

"I rarely spent time mopping the lower levels," I replied, making no effort to hide my contempt for the man or his vocation. I walked over to a display terminal, running a gloved hand over its controls.

"They must have changed your codes by now," Rey observed.

"Of course," I replied gruffly. "But certain generic low level codes may still be active." I turned my head towards her. "We do not need to access any command systems encrypted records, merely a facility diagram."

A smirk crossed her lips. "So you just need the kind of code a janitor would."

I had little interest in Rey's retort, instead turning my focus back to the terminal. The panel paused for more than a second, and I began to wonder if the old code had indeed been changed, or worse yet, that the unit had been intentionally disabled by the First Order. Fortunately the primary interface soon appeared, and it took only moments to call up the required information.

"The generator room is four decks below us, and nine sections over."

"Is there a service conduit or garbage chute leading towards it?" Rey asked. I turned to look at her, and she did not need see my expression to infer I was not pleased with the suggestion of crawling through a garbage chute. "They'll be watching the lifts," she added pointedly.

"Perhaps," I acknowledged. Even if there was a suitable passage, it would only aid in getting us closer to the projector. "We still need access to the chamber to disable the projector."

Rey tapped on the display. "Maybe not." She traced the schematic with her finger, eyes fixed on the complex network of conduits and service corridors it showed. "It looks like power for the generator is run through this service junction," she said.

I shook my head slightly. The system was highly redundant, with numerous sources of power. Disabling one would be inconsequential.

Rey sensed my doubts. "We don't disable it, we trigger a surge. The overload should create a feedback loop in the power converters themselves."

I frowned, surprised she could not see the flaws in her own plan, most obviously it would result in our immediate deaths. The failing power converters would release surges of quantum plasma, a nearly unstoppable force that would burn through entire central section of the installation. "Our intention was to prevent a feedback loop."

"If I can figure out some way to make the charge build slowly enough, we should have time to escape." She continued to study the diagram.

"If?" I asked.

Rey's expression hardened. "We have nothing to lose. If it works, we get out of the area before the surge builds. If it doesn't, we either go back to the original plan, or…"

She trailed off, but her meaning was clear. If necessary should _would_ induce a feedback loop, sacrificing herself to end Snoke's reign.

I turned away from her, lowering my head slightly as I reached out through the Force. As expected, the areas around us were rapidly filling with activity. I could not see their precise location but I knew they were coming. Most were cold and distant, the simple minds of those pressed into service of the First Order and bound by events to do as their masters commanded. But some were complex and cunning, their thoughts laced with both confidence and unwavering loyalty to the First Order. Elite troops and officers that had been hand selected as members of Supreme Leader's personal retinue.

And overriding it all, was the darkness emanating from above us. Snoke's existence was a cold blight within the Force, radiating a virulent rage that was unmistakable.

I could fight them. I might defeat them. But if there was a better way…

I looked back at Rey, my concealed eyes connecting with hers. Her eyes narrowed slightly, small creases formed on her forehead. "I can do it."

I nodded and moved towards the next chamber. Though it seemed empty I found my right hand wrapped tightly around my saber. I walked to a service hatch and carefully removed it, exposing a run of thick cables. I turned back towards Rey and motioned her inside. I followed moments later, carefully reattaching the hatch in an attempt to conceal our location from anyone that might enter the room.

Rey had started descending to the next level by the time I had secured the hatch, carefully climbing down one of the cables. "The junction I need is in the next conduit over. We can transfer to it on this deck.

I dropped down next to her, our bodies pushed together in the tight conduit. I could sense movement outside. I lowered my head slightly, lining up my eyes with a vent in the service hatch. There was a single Stormtrooper standing guard, facing the doorway to the main corridor. It was obvious the trooper was guarding the room, not the conduit. Nonetheless, it was unlikely we open the service hatch without drawing his attention.

Rey glanced at me as she felt my left arm brush against her, concern evident in her eyes. She wanted to protest what I intended to do, but knew it was futile. And, perhaps, she knew I was right.

My thumb and forefinger came together quickly, eliciting an audible crunch as the man's windpipe collapsed. Pain erupted from the man, his agony flowing through the force as life slowly drained from his body. I was tempted to savor the sensation, but Snoke would undoubtedly sense the disturbance as well. The quicker the man's suffering was ended, the better.

I twisted my hand to the right, a motion mimicked by the trooper's helmet as his spine was abruptly severed. I held him in place for a moment before pulling the corpse away from the door and gently lowering the limp remains to the ground.

Rey swallowed noticeably, unsettled both by what I had done and the ease with which I had done it.

"We have all killed in pursuit of our objectives," I reminder her gently.

"The difference is it hurts me to do it," Rey answered, a hint of resentment in her words. My action was a vivid reminder of the cruel and unrelenting flames that burned within me.

I pushed open the hatch and lowered it gently to the floor. I stepped through the opening, followed by Rey. She glanced at the dead man for a moment before turning her attention to a series of service hatches. "This one."

I replaced the hatch on the conduit we had just emerged from and followed her into the next one. Three decks down we entered a large service junction. Several thick power conduits ran towards its center, feeding a hub that distributed energy to surrounding rooms. Rey opened a service panel, her eyes flickering over a labyrinth of wires, integrated chips, and quantum relays.

"This will take a few minutes," she said softly.

While she worked I surveyed my surroundings, trying to determine what direction an attack was likely to arrive. The conduits stretched out in four directions: the large conduit heading straight up we had used to enter the junction, and three smaller conduits positioned equidistantly around the junction. One was larger than the others, carrying a high-current cable as wells as bundles of datawire to the Gravity Well room. If the troops protecting the Gravity Well learned our location, the conduit would be the most direct expedient access to us. I took several steps down the conduit, crouching slightly as it was barely a meter and a half tall. I walked slowly, the sound of my footsteps barely audible over the electrical hum that permeated the conduit.

I waited for an intolerable period, knowing that each passing moment made out discovery more likely. Rey said something, but her words were lost in the whine of the power conduit. And then I felt another presence, one that was strong with the force. It burned with dark energy that was eerily familiar, that I had known for many years.

Lieron Ren, one of Skywalker's former student, and the last one to pledge allegiance to me before the fall of his sanctimonious academy. The light had held a powerful grip on her, but once she learned that I had nearly been murdered by Skywalker's blade she could no longer deny the truth.

It seemed unusual that Snoke would send someone so closely tied to me, but it was possible she was the most experienced Knight available. Or perhaps Snoke hoped to play on my sympathies, hoping that memories of the girl I once knew would weaken my resolve. Despite our history, I had no illusion of what Lieron was now. Much like myself, she had been forged into a weapon of the First Order.

I also knew that if I was aware of her presence, she was most likely aware of mine.

The sound of an opening service hatch confirmed my suspicions. I turned around but could not see Rey past the mass of cables. "They are coming!" I yelled before turning my attention back to the corridor before me.

Two individuals in the brilliant red armor of the Supreme Leader's Praetorian Guard were the first to come into view. Standing ten meters from me they stopped abruptly and raised their weapons. I took three steps towards them and drew my lightsaber. I ignited the blade, its tip arcing slightly as it came into contact with the wall of the confining conduit.

The guard on the right moved first, reaching out with his lance and charging towards me. The move was virtually suicidal: the man knew that he had no means to defeat me with such an attack. But the guards were unwaveringly loyal: if his sacrifice opened a window for his compatriot to attack, then his death would be justified.

Thus, even as I parried the first guard's lance with my saber, my mind was focused on his compatriot. The second guard raised one half of a vibro-arbir blade, artfully positioning himself to use his sacrificial comrade for cover while impaling me with the sparking weapon.

A twist of my wrist slid my saber around and down the first guard's lance, plunging the tip directly into the crimson plate on his chest. His diaphragm contracted rapidly in response to my weapon piercing a lung. Without waiting for the blade to fully penetrate the man's body I pushed his now dying form away from me. The second attacker, poised to use the dying guard as a shield, found his vibro-arbir driven into the first man's back. It tore into the armor without the elegance of the saber, smoking and screeching as it burned through the laminate layers and then continued into the far softer flesh.

I turned my lightsaber towards the second attacker, but he managed to intercept my strike with the other half of his vibro-arbir. He wrenched the first piece from the fallen guards back, turning it towards me in a hastily executed attack. I stepped backward to remain out of range, then brought my blade forward only to have it blocked once more.

I drew back, realizing that the man should have been dead by now. He was a talented opponent, but no match for me.

He lunged again, and once more I narrowly avoided the effort. I brought my blade around forcefully, knocking his weapon aside. I quickly brought my lightsaber back towards him, the tip of the shimmering blade centered on his chest. I pushed forward but was not fast enough. The guard twisted sideways, causing my saber to slide along the edge of his armor in a shower of sparks.

The move left me somewhat unbalanced, and the guard did not hesitate to press his perceived advantage. One half of the vibro-arbir swung towards me; rather than trying to meet his weapon with mine I pushed off my left foot and slammed my body against the corridor wall. Despite the constraints of the corridor, I had moved enough that the guard's weapon only made contact with the fabric of my left sleeve, just below my shoulder.

I swung my blade towards him again, letting the tip drag across the edge of the conduit as I did. Bits of molten metal erupted from the wall, and I used the force to direct them towards my opponent. The liquefied durasteel had no chance of penetrating the reinforce armor, but it was a distraction. The guard took a step backward, lowering both arms slightly for balance.

I lunged forward, burning metal adhering to my sleeves as I drove my weapon straight for the man's chest. The guard began reacting to the attack, raising both parts of his vibro-arbir in an attempt to block the blow. Time moved slowly as he brought his weapon to bear, and it seemed to take seconds for the tip of my blade to close the meter between us.

He brought his blades together in a V-shape, preparing to catch my blade and force it upwards and away. But he was too slow. The crackling saber slid across his electrified blades and into his sternum. I force my weapon forward, driving it through him like a spear. The helmeted head looked down, hidden eyes surveying the fatal wound. The vibro-arbir fell from his hands, and the man went limp. I deactivated my lightsaber, letting the carcass fall to the floor. Blood pooled around the wound, its dark red color staining the crimson armor.

I drew my lightsaber back towards my chest, thumb poised over the activation trigger. The smoke of vaporized durasteel hung in the air, limiting my view to only a few meters. My senses tingled as I reached out, and suddenly I understood why my fight with the guards had seemed like an unusual challenge. Snoke had enveloped me in his own malevolence, the caustic hate wound around me like a heavy mist, dampening my senses and suppressing my movements.

"You know his strength," a mechanically modulated voice said. It was emotionless and clear, but with distinct female tone. A shadow appeared in the smoke as she drew closer. "His strength is in me now." Her form was now apparent, the strange juxtaposition of ungainly battle armor against the feminine curves of her powerful body. She came to a stop just outside of my lightsaber's reach, the polished visor of her mask reflecting my own. "You cannot stand against it."

My gloved fingers flexed slightly around the hilt of my saber. "If you intend to kill me," I said slowly, "you will need to work for it."

A/N: Hopefully you enjoyed the action—this was the first real melee combat scene I've written, and I didn't want to become too distracted with detail, but at the same time I wanted to do more than a simple "I engaged him with my lightsaber, and after a vicious flurry of activity he lay at me feet."

I also felt that even if Kylo can keep Snoke from invading his mind, the Supreme Leader is far too powerful to simply sit by and watch.

As always, thank you for your support, views, fave, follows, and especially reviews!


End file.
